Storiesonline.net ------- Campground Awakening by Lubrican Copyright© 2010 by Lubrican ------- Description: Bobby earned break from his farm chores and chose a week at a state park, where all he'd have to do was fish, hike, eat and sleep. When his dad couldn't leave the farm, it looked like all was lost until his Aunt Wendy volunteered to go camping with him. She'd been his babysitter when he was little and they got along well. It turned out they still got along well. In fact they got along VERY well. And, in the process, they discovered another activity besides fishing and hiking they both enjoyed. Codes: mF cons reluc het inc aunt neph 1st oral mastrb preg ------- ------- Author's comment: The idea for this story was shamelessly stolen from TheMoose63, who wrote a story called "Camping With Patty" a while back. As so often happens when I read somebody else's work, my mind wanted to replace things. That doesn't mean there's anything wrong with the original story. Think of it like cooking. If somebody else starts a pan of potatoes, hamburger and cream of mushroom soup, and then you come along, you might want to add some garlic pepper to it, or a can of mushrooms. When I want to do that with a story sometimes it is to change the personality or relationship of a/the character(s). Sometimes it is to change the setting. In this particular case, I wished there was more tease and buildup to the main event. I want to repeat that this doesn't mean Moose's story is substandard. Not by any stretch of the imagination. It simply means that I think of things a little differently than he does. So this is a nod to TheMoose63, who gave me what I hope are some great ideas. Bob ------- Chapter 1 My parents farmed two thousand acres of wheat, along with a herd of about a hundred and seventy-five head of beef cattle. My dad had worked up to that from the original five hundred and eighty-two acres he inherited from my grandfather. True, most of the land was leased, but he worked hard to make that land produce. So did us kids. I had twin half-brothers older than me. I guess their mom died of some complication after they were born. Nobody talked about her much. After that my dad met my mother at one of the town's 4th of July celebrations when she was still in high school and the rest, as they say, is history. You can tell what kind of woman she is by the fact that she took on a husband and twin boys who weren't yet two, when she was barely eighteen. Anyway, since then the twins had grown up. They went to college when I was eleven. Chet studied agriculture, while Ralph went after an animal husbandry degree. When they graduated and came home Chet handled the crops and Ralph took care of the herd. Dad split his time working with whoever needed his attention the most. Along the way Mom had two kids of her own. I had one of those pain-in-the-ass birthdays, when it came to school situations. I was born on the fifteenth day of October, which was the cutoff date for getting into first grade when you're still only five. They couldn't decide if you had be six before the fifteenth, or if you could be six on the fifteenth. They decided to let me in, which made it weird, because everybody else was older than me. It was that way for the rest of my life. I was always a year younger than everybody else in my class when we started a school year, but I passed most of them up before Thanksgiving. That's why, even though I was only sixteen, I would be going into my senior year at Green Valley High, after that summer. I also had a little sister, Julie May, who was a year behind me. All of us worked hard, whether there was school or not. I might not have formal training, but I could sure sit on a John Deere tractor and pull discs, sweeps or spring tooth, and I could drive a combine as well as any adult. I might not know as much as Ralph did about cattle, but I could castrate a calf blindfolded, and move a group of cows anywhere you wanted me to. What I didn't have - what none of us had - was any semblance of a social life. Well, Chet and Ralph both got one when they went to college. They even got married while they were off having fun and even Mom had to pitch in and plow fields or wrangle cows. If we weren't in school we were working or sleeping. Eating didn't count, though we did plenty of that too. My mother claimed that all that hard work and good food was why I was taller than anybody else in my family. I was taller than just about anybody else in the county, for that matter. I was strong too, though I had a wiry kind of strength. I wasn't a show-off or anything, but if a piano needed moving at school, and the four guys tugging and pushing on it were having trouble, once I joined them it seemed like the wheels loosened up or something ... if you get my meaning. I knew all about girls. I was fascinated with them, not counting Julie May, who was in direct competition with me for getting out of chores, not that we had much chance of doing that. But while I was very interested in girls, I hardly ever got to explore what they were like. I got to see them during school hours, but teachers have this habit of making you pay attention to the classroom instruction, instead of more interesting things. And after school I had to high-tail it home and get started on chores. I had plenty of chances to study up on my mother and Julie May, but they didn't hardly seem like real females to me. I mean they had all the parts and such, but you know what I mean. And while I occasionally saw Cathy, who was Chet's wife, and Rebecca, who was Ralph's wife, my brothers lived in trailers parked a mile in either direction of the main house, and their women didn't hang around our place all that much. We got together for big dinners and all that, but even after a few years Cathy and Rebecca still seemed kind of distant. In fact, the only woman I really got to see and know well at all outside my own immediate family was my Aunt Wendy, who was my mother's little sister. She had been me and Julie May's babysitter when we were little, and she'd been the one to read us wild adventure stories she got from the library, and play games with us, and go on treasure hunts and build forts and treehouses and all manner of fun things. She was like our grown-up buddy, and it was special. Aunt Wendy was the black sheep of the family, if you could call it that. That might have had it's seeds in the fact that, before she died, Grandma Haverson called Wendy "her little accident," because she wasn't planned, and was ten years younger than my mother. She got along better with kids younger than herself (like me and Julie May) than she did with the ones her own age. Instead of going to college she had joined the Air Force and stayed in for five years. She got out to go spend two years working for a contractor of some kind in Kuwait. It was all hush hush, but she made a boatload of money and put it all in savings. I guess there wasn't a lot there to spend your money on. It had practically killed me when she joined the Air Force because I was ten, and my imagination was expanding in leaps and bounds because of the things she taught us. She was a whiz at science and knew all kinds of interesting stuff. Additionally, ten was old enough to be given more important chores to do on the farm. So I lost my buddy and became a virtual slave all at the same time. Understand here, I'm not complaining about the work. We're a family and it's a family farm. Some day I'll get part of it and reap all the benefits of that hard work. Actually, I reap a lot of them now. I'm healthy, well fed, and I have what they call a more well rounded education than some kid who spends hours playing video games. Hell, we don't even turn the TV on unless it's for the news or weather. Anyway, I was out riding fence one day on the ATV and I found a cow who had got caught up in the fence, trying to reach the taller grass on the other side. It was March and it was still cold as hell, and her horns got wrapped up in a loose strand of barbed wire. She'd tossed her head and in the process had gotten the wire around her throat. She was in a bad way, but what made it even worse was that she'd gone into labor while she was caught up like that and that's when I happened upon her. I got out my fence pliers, which I carried everywhere I went, and snipped the strands that had her hung up. She flopped down then and the half of the calf sticking out of her kicked, so I grabbed on and pulled and that was that. Then I put that calf over my legs and the gas tank, between me and the handle bars, and got back to the house quick. Dad went after the cow and Ralph checked out the calf, deciding that the bumpy ride back had done her more good than harm. He turned the calf over to Julie May to take care of. That was what she called her specialty. It didn't amount to any more than cooing over it and getting it to take a bottle. Hell, anybody could do that. Ralph got on the 4-wheeler to go help Dad. They saved the cow too, by the way. Dad was more than happy. He said as a reward for my quick thinking I could choose anything I wanted that didn't cost more than fifty dollars. I chose a camping trip to the Twin Peaks State Park - a week long camping trip, with hiking and fishing and swimming and no tractors and no cows. Dad said that he might be able to get away in early June, before harvest started, and the deal was struck. I planned everything out and was all excited. A whole week of no school and no work. A week of lying around being lazy while I caught fish or swam around. And maybe there would be some girls camping there too. Memorial Day came around, one of the few rest days we had. We had a big feast on days like this, and company came from all over, primarily because it was hard for us to go anywhere and leave the cattle completely untended. Plus we had a big house and big kitchen and shade trees to eat under and all that. It was during that feast that everything fell apart. A group of the men were all gathered around the 55 gallon barrel Bar-B-Q grill that was set up by the three tables where people had put the things they brought to contribute to the feast. The women were sitting at the tables, chatting and waiting for the meat to get done. Chet announced that Old Gertie had either thrown a rod that morning when he fired her up, or was about to, based on the knocking she'd done before he shut her down. Old Gertie was a '63 Chevy grain truck we used to get wheat from the field to the elevator. We had three trucks, and that was the first year I was going to be old enough (legally) to drive the trucks to the elevator. In years past I ran one of our two combines pretty much from sunup to sundown, but this year I'd get to be in the rotation for driving the trucks. I was looking forward to it. Not that I minded driving the Gleaner. It even had air conditioning, but it got kind of boring to do it for fourteen hours straight. And if I was driving truck I could stop and get a soda, or maybe even an ice cream cone or something. Dad said "Damn. That will take a week to rebuild, and that's if I can get the parts." "I already called Cooper's," said Chet. "He says he can get the rods and bearings and a gasket set. Said it will take three days to get them here UPS." "That's a relief," said Dad. "Okay then. We'll get the motor out of it tomorrow and get it torn down the next day. If the crank is all right we should be able to have the machine work done and be ready to put it back together when the parts get here. We'll just have to baby her to break her in during the harvest." Like an idiot I said "You can't do that, Dad. We're going camping tomorrow." He was a very practical guy. "Sorry, Bobby. No can do. I have to get that truck back up for harvest. You know that." He didn't sound all that sorry. I think he was a work-a-holic myself. "I'll go by myself," I said. I admit it might have sounded a bit angry. "No you won't," said my mother. I didn't ever argue with her. She said what she meant, and meant what she said. "You can go camping some other time," she added. "Maybe after harvest," said Dad. "Yeah, right," I said. After harvest there would be haying, and then working the ground to make sure weeds didn't take hold until it could be seeded again. Then we'd be loading cows up to sell at auction. Unless I wanted to go camping in the dead of winter I knew I was out of luck. I know it's silly that it meant that much to me, but I snuck off so I wouldn't cry in front of them. There was an old bag swing out back. Nobody had used it in probably three or four years but when I tugged on it, it still seemed strong enough to support my weight, so I wrapped my legs around it and kicked off. I was about to work up to a good sniffling cry when my Aunt Wendy wandered over. "What's up, Bubba?" she asked. She'd called me Bubba for as long as I could remember. "My name's Bobby!" I snapped. "Oh, I see," she said, clearly unruffled by my correction. "What's up, Bobby?" "I want to be alone!" I growled. "Tough shit," she said, all calm like. Nobody in our family cussed. It wasn't allowed. Of course she'd seen the world and she didn't go by our rules. Still, it was a shock to hear an adult, and especially a woman, curse like that. "Just leave me alone," I moaned, trying to hold in the sobs so she wouldn't see them. "Can't do that," she sighed, and sat down on the ground by the trunk of the tree. She was wearing a loose summer dress, but she just plopped down there anyway. "From the sound of it you might commit suicide and then everybody would say it was my fault, because I could have stopped you." She had this melodramatic tone in her voice and she worked it as she went on. "And then I wouldn't be welcome around here any more, and since I don't have any other family worth a flying fuck I'd be all lonely and pretty soon I'd take to drinking strong liquor and hanging out at pool halls and rolling drunks for quarters. It would all end badly with me in prison, running a gang of the most feared women in the whole state. We'd be called 'Wendy's Wolves' and grown men would tremble in fear at our name." She looked over at me. "You wouldn't want that to happen, now would you?" Did I mention it was hard to stay mad when Aunt Wendy was around? She was just so fun-loving and she said such crazy things ... like what she'd just said. "Wendy's Wolves?" I snorted. "Oooo, I'm scared already." "You should be! We tear our victims' throats out," she said, completely serious. "And then howl." She lifted her chin and made a sound that was part coyote, part hyena and part alto. I had to laugh. She stopped. "That's better. Now what's got your dick in a knot?" I stared and she actually blushed. She knew there was no cussing allowed in our family. "Sorry," she said. "Sometimes I slip back into military speak. Why are you all worked up?" "Dad promised me a camping trip and now he's backing out of it." "Is that all?" She smiled. "You don't understand," I moaned. "It's a whole week at the state park and we were going to fish and hike and swim and there wouldn't be any cows or chores. And he promised, because I saved a calf and it's not fair." I was getting worked up again. "So go without him," she said. "I tried." I almost sobbed. "Mom says I can't go alone." "No problem," she said. "Hell, take me. I'll go." I blinked. "Really?" You'd have thought she'd just said "Don't worry about that nasty old cancer, I'll donate some bone marrow." There was that much hope in my voice. "Sure. I love camping," she said. "I'm pretty good at it too. I went camping lots of times in the Girl Scouts, and I kind of miss it. How about I go talk to your mother and fix it all up?" "You'd really do that?" I asked. It was like Christmas had been un-cancelled. "Wait right there," she said, and got up. She brushed at the skirt of her sun dress and went to stand next to my mother, who was cutting up watermelon slices and arranging them on a big plate. They put their heads together, and Mom looked over at me. I tried to look pitiful, which is pretty hard to do when you're hanging onto a bag swing. Then Aunt Wendy was on her way back and she was smiling and my heart just about burst. ------- I couldn't wait for the next day so that Wendy and I could get on the road. Julie May was already saying how unfair it was that I got to go with Aunt Wendy and she had to stay there and work, but Mom just said "You didn't save a calf." Julie May said as how she'd fed the calf and had kept it alive, but Mom wasn't having any of that. I tried not to wake anybody up the next morning. All my stuff was already packed and waiting down by the front door. We had decided to start really early so we'd get there with daylight left to set up and do some things. That meant she was picking me up at three in the morning. She was right on time. We loaded my stuff next to hers in the back of her pickup. It felt so strange to leave without saying goodbye to anybody, almost like I was sneaking off or something. We headed down the road, west towards the Colorado line. It was about a seven hour drive to get to the park. We made small talk along the way, mostly about me and what I liked most about school. She'd only been back from Kuwait for maybe six months and I'd only seen her a couple of times since then, and only a few minutes each time. So I spent two hours with my jaw hanging down as she told me stories about what she did there. Some of it was what she called classified, which meant she wasn't supposed to talk about it, but she told me anyway. We decided not to stop for a proper breakfast. Instead when we stopped for gas I got half a dozen donuts and a quart of chocolate milk. We got back on the road, gorging on the sweetness of the donuts and sharing the milk. Eventually she asked me about my girlfriends. "So tell me, Bobby. A good-looking man like you, you must have all the girls chasing after you. How many girlfriends do you have?" A man? She called me a man! "Well I really don't actually have a girlfriend. I wasn't even allowed to date until I turned sixteen, and since then there hasn't been any time for dates. I mean what girl wants to go out starting at nine at night, and have to be home by ten? Besides, girls aren't interested in me." "Don't be silly, Bobby. You are what I believe the girls call a hunk these days. I bet they salivate over you." "Yeah, right." I smiled. She made me feel good, but I doubted she was right. Girls talked to me at school and all, but I didn't even know how to ask one out for a date. Then there was the fact that Tanya Talbot, the tallest girl in school, only came to my chin. Plus there was the problem of when I'd be allowed enough time to actually go on a date. I think my mother wanted me to wait until I was in college, like my brothers. I had an errant thought, wondering if that's why my brothers had gone to college - so they could have a social life. I had turned sideways so I could face her while we talked, and suddenly I remembered something. A year or two back she'd sent a picture of her wearing a bikini on a beach somewhere. It had "Wish you were here" on the back, and my mom said it was just to torture her. It had tortured me just a bit, because I got hard looking at it. I'd jacked off, remembering how she looked, and then felt guilty for days. I know that sounds goofy, but she'd always been just Aunt Wendy before. Pretty, yes. Fun, yes. But just Aunt Wendy. That was the first time I'd seen her as a female of the species, if you know what I mean. Now I actually looked at her as a female again. She was really pretty in a wholesome way. Her hair wasn't done up fancy and she didn't look like she was wearing any makeup, but she was still interesting to look at. It's hard to explain, but I felt like wanted to watch her for hours. She was Maybe 5'7" and 120 pounds. I'm 6'4", which means everybody looks short to me, and sometimes my estimates are off. It was also hard to tell how big her breasts were. I mean I could see she was wearing a bra and it seems like that would compress things. In the bra they were about as big as an oversize soft ball maybe. She had long legs and a nice round ass. Wendy saw our exit and pulled off the freeway and headed southeast toward the State Park where we had reservations for a tent site. A little while later we pulled up to the Ranger station to register. "Welcome to the park, folks," he said. "It's a light day so far, so you pretty much have your choice of spots. You just drive around until you find one you like then stake your claim." Wendy paid the fee we started driving around looking for a good spot. She passed up the first three sets of campsites and then turned into an area with a sign that said "Whispering Pines - Tent Camping Only." There was a nice place at the end of an oval drive, not far from the lake and with lots of trees. "That one," I said, pointing. "I agree," she said. "It's farther from the other sites, so even if partiers show up they shouldn't bother us." Wendy parked and we unloaded all of our camping gear. It took us almost two hours to set up the camp. Neither one of us was all that familiar with my dad's six man cabin tent, but we finally got everything in place. "Let's keep the food and the coolers in the truck just in case there are any animals looking for food. That way we won't lose our stash." "Okay, that seems like a good idea. Hey, can I go down to the lake for a swim now or do you want to eat lunch first?" "I could go for a dip to get cooled off after all this hard work, then we can eat." We both went into the tent to get our swimsuits. I got mine out of my pack and stood up. She was holding what looked suspiciously like that bikini I'd seen her in, in that picture. There was an awkward silence. Then she broke it. "Okay, we're both adults here, and we're camping, so there may be a little less modesty than there would normally be. No big deal, right? You turn your back and I'll change, then I'll turn my back for you. Deal?" I turned my back so Wendy could change. I could hear her as she undressed. That rustling sound meant her clothes were coming off. I really wanted to turn my head a bit and get a glimpse of her naked, but the gentleman in me won out and I didn't peek. Besides, I was feeling pretty good for being included as an adult. "All done, your turn." I turned around and she was wearing that same bikini. When she faced away from me I slipped my t-shirt over my head and dropped my shorts. My underwear got caught up on my cock, which was rock hard because of that bikini and I wondered what I was going to do. It would make my baggy swim suit stick out like crazy. I slipped into my trunks and tried to get my cock to stay up, lying against my belly. I had to pull my trunks up too high, but it kind of worked. "Problem?" she asked, not turning around. "No," I gasped. I got my towel and put it in front of me. "Okay then, let's go." I kept the towel pressed against my cock while we went down to the water. She glanced at me, but didn't say anything. She was kind of smiling and I was pretty sure I was busted. Being in the water was better. I couldn't see her body any more and the cold water eventually made me soften up. We splashed around in the water by the shore then we both decided to swim out to the floating dock moored about fifty yards out in the water. We climbed up the ladder and lay down to sun for a while. Wendy lay down on her stomach and untied her bikini top. From where I lay I could just see the sides of her breasts. I was stiff again immediately of course, so I lay on my stomach too. It seemed rude to turn my head away from her, but if I looked at her my cock throbbed. The bottom of Wendy's suit also got my attention. The bottoms were cut high on the hip and showed a great deal of her butt cheeks. Across her naked back I could see nothing but tan which raised the question, did she tan in the nude? Just thinking about her naked body made my cock leak and I couldn't help moving around to kind of put pressure on it because that felt so good. I wanted to beat off in the worst way, but obviously that was out of the question. Her eyes opened suddenly and looked into mine. "So, what are you thinking about?" she asked. Her question caught me completely off guard. "Uh ... well ... I was ... just daydreaming, that's all." My stomach growled. Wendy smiled. "Hmmmm, I see. Well, what do you say that we head back and have some lunch?" "It's kind of nice here," I said lamely. If I got up it was going to be obvious what I had been daydreaming about. Naturally my stomach growled again. "I'm sure you're starved," she said. "I don't want you fainting on me. I don't think I could carry you all the way back to the campsite." Wendy reached behind her and tied her top. She rolled off the dock into the water and started side stroking for shore, which gave me the opportunity to crawl to the edge and get in. I couldn't tell if she was looking at me or not, but when I looked down my baggy suit wasn't baggy any more, if you know what I mean. Again, the water helped. It also helped that when she got to the shore she got out and jogged back to the campsite. When I got there she had put on a T shirt and was taking food out of the cooler. After our late lunch she wanted to take a nap. I should have let her do that alone, because then I could have gone outside and found some place to beat off, but three in the morning is early for me too, so I stayed with her and took a nap too. After we woke up she suggested a hike. It was fun, and there were all kinds of interesting things to see. I was glad she walked behind me so I didn't have to watch her hips sway back and forth. At one point I turned and said "You know, Aunt Wendy, I really appreciate you taking your time to take me camping." She smiled. "I'm glad to do it. Like I said, I miss it. I'm going to enjoy this as much as you do, trust me." We walked for about two miles then returned to our campsite. I went to use the latrine and when I came back she was coming out of the tent. She was bent over and the shirt sagged away from her body. I realized she'd taken off the bikini top. She was braless! I could see almost all of both of her breasts and I about stopped breathing for a minute. She stood up and saw me staring, but once again I skated because all she did was smile at me. We both worked on dinner together, though there wasn't much required. Wendy cooked some hamburgers and hot dogs on her portable gas grill and there were chips too. We downed them with sodas. It was very peaceful. While we'd seen a couple of other folks setting up tents, there wasn't another camper within a hundred yards of our site. While we were cleaning up she said, "Tell you what Bobby, why don't you go over to the showers and get ready for bed while I clean up the dishes, then I'll take my shower, okay?" "Sure." I went into the tent and got my soap and towel and toothbrush and walked the 50 or so yards to the large cement block bathroom and shower facility. The men's side was basically one large room with four washbasins mounted on the left wall. Across from them were two urinals and a couple of stalls. At the end of the room was an open space with a shower head sprouting from each of the three walls. I brushed my teeth and took a shower. I wanted to beat off, but was afraid somebody else might come in. I kept thinking about thos other tents up the road. When I walked out, Aunt Wendy was just walking up, holding her stuff. "You take long showers," she said, smiling. "Sorry," I said. It was dark, and I hadn't realized I'd spent that much time in there. "Wait for me," she said. "What?" "It got dark quicker than I thought it would, and I can't find my flashlight," she said. "I don't want to be here alone or walk back alone in the dark." "Oh ... sure. No problem," I said. She went in the women's side and I saw the light go on. It wasn't until I heard the water splashing that I thought about peeking. I know I shouldn't have, but it was suddenly impossible not to. I looked around to see if anybody was headed our way. It was dark, but I could see the road and there was nobody on it. So I kind of inched my way to the doorway into the women's side. At first I darted my head past the edge and right back, in case she was looking my way. I didn't know what I'd say if she saw me, but I couldn't resist. She wasn't facing me, though. She had her side to me and was bent over. I pushed my head so that one eye could see and felt my cock balloon in my gym shorts, which is what I had brought to sleep in. Man was she gorgeous. Her breasts were hanging down and they were fantastic. Then she stood up and raised her arms up to wash her hair. Her breasts were high and firm, with no hint of sag like I sometimes saw in the contraband Playboys that were hidden in various gym lockers at school. Her waist looked impossibly skinny. I could see her ribs at the bottom of her rib cage. But her butt was so round and full. If her tits had been smaller she might have looked funny, but everything was perfectly proportioned. She turned under the water to let it rinse her hair from the back and I got a quick glimpse that registered as a lack of color change where I expected to see pussy hair. It happened so fast, and I was looking with only one eye. I wondered if she shaved, and my cock leaked at the thought. I suddenly realized I had the perfect opportunity to beat off and stuck my hand in my shorts. I had just taken three or four strokes when she turned toward the door and called out. "Just a minute longer, Bobby. Don't go anywhere!" I jerked back and stopped beating off, scared that she'd seen me. It was a sound that made me peek again. I heard a kind of soft moan, like she was in pain. And when I peeked around the corner, she had her legs spread, was leaned backwards and positioned so that the water was hitting her belly and groin. Her hand was also between her legs and I had the insane thought that I could barely see her middle finger sliding in and out of her pussy. But that hand was moving so fast it was impossible to tell. She suddenly stood up and then leaned forward, her wet hair hanging down. She froze and groaned and that was when I realized she had just masturbated. I was amazed ... shocked ... astounded ... call it whatever you want. But it had never occurred to me that girls did it too. I mean I knew it was theoretically possible, and that women did it on the internet and all that, but that was like the movies ... not real ... wasn't it? And the idea that a woman I knew did that kind of thing just blew me away. Which was why I failed to finish beating off myself. Then I heard the water go off, and it was too late because she was telling me about how she was almost ready and that she would only be a second. I barely got back outside where I was supposed to have been the whole time before she came out with her towel wrapped around her head. She was wearing a long T shirt and even in the dark I could see her nipples poking through it. I was in deep, deep trouble, and I knew it. I was going to have to find a reason to get away long enough to pump the spooge out of my balls or I'd never get to sleep. She had planned S'mores. She made a small fire in the fire pit and we sat opposite each other, roasting the marshmallows on coat hangers that had been straightened. She sat on a log with her knees together and her feet to one side, like women sit when they're being modest. But her shirt rode up a long ways and the light was yellow and soft on her thighs. I tried not to stare at her boobs while she combed her damp hair out with her fingers. At least the nipples weren't poking out so much at this time. But I was still mostly hard, and my balls were starting to ache. We ate the S'mores and she stood up. "You ready for bed, Bobby?" "I guess," I said. I was ready to beat off. It was all I could think about. "We could stay up and tell ghost stories," she suggested. That was all I needed, more time to look at her and dream about her naked body. "No, let's save that for another night," I said. "Okay then," she said. "We'll get up bright and early, have breakfast, and then go check out the falls." "Great," I said. ------- Fifteen minutes later I was still horny, still hard, and still awake. The fire had died down, and the only light in the area was from a street light way down the road that just made the tent fabric light enough that you could see if you tried hard. I hadn't heard anything from Wendy for a while, so I pushed my shorts down and started slowly stroking my cock. I couldn't wait to spunk out. I was thinking about how she looked in the shower, and wondering if any other man had ever seen her like that ... maybe even taken showers with her. And all that other stuff I'd heard about, of course. "Bobby? I know what you're doing." She spoke suddenly and softly. I felt like I'd been caught trying to drown a kitten. I quickly stopped and pulled up the sleeping bag. "Um ... I... " I had no freaking idea what to say. Finally it came out unplanned. "Shit." I finished softly. She laughed! It was the thing I was most unprepared for. "It's normal, Bobby. You're a young man. I'm just surprised you're doing it right here, next to me." "I'm not!" I gasped, without thinking. "Don't lie, Bobby. I'm not knocking you. Like I said, it's normal. Boys have needs and I know that." "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I couldn't help it. I couldn't get to sleep, I mean." "I see." she said. It sounded like she was smiling. It was quiet for a while. Then she spoke again. "I ... um ... saw you peeking at me in the shower, Bobby." "Shit," I moaned again. It was really a good thing my mother wasn't around. Of course her sister was right next to me. I braced for her angry outburst. "I'm not mad. Not really. I mean it was totally inappropriate, but I understand why you did it. All boys your age are curious." "Really?" I was astonished. "Of course they're curious," she said. "Most of them never get to see a naked woman at your age." "I mean about you not being mad," I said. "A woman likes to know men find her attractive," she said. "Well you sure are," I said. I wasn't thinking about all this. I was just reacting and I think I was babbling a little bit. "Of course I acted inappropriately too," she said. "You did?" "You saw what I did, Bobby. I did that because I knew you were watching." I remembered her jacking off, or whatever it is that women call it. The realization that she had done that knowing I was watching made my balls feel like they were going to explode. My hand, which had been gripping my prick like a vise since she had first spoken, stroked three more times all by itself before I could stop it again. "So your problem is probably my fault," she suggested. "Isn't it?" I was unable to actually speak. I felt like I was going to fly apart into little tiny pieces. I heard a whining, groaning sound and realized it had come from my own mouth. "Poor baby," she cooed, and rolled over to face me. "If I caused it, then I suppose I should help deal with it. Don't you agree?" Agree? I was incapable of agreeing, or disagreeing or even thinking coherently at that point. My aunt, who I had seen naked, and for whom the boner had grown, was not only not mad at me for beating off to her ... she was offering to help. Whatever that meant. What did that mean? My mind became completely paralyzed as a myriad of ideas fought for prominence. She cleared everything up in a couple of seconds when she said "Let me," and put her hand on mine, gripping it gently. I realized she was trying to get me to let go of my cock. My brain apparently agreed because I jerked my hand away as if my boner was white hot. Then her cool hand wrapped around me and all I remember is it moving a few times, and feeling fantastic. Then I flopped like a fish out of water as my balls finally got relief. Once I had time to think about it I realized it was over in less than a minute. I was still rattled, and her laughter didn't help any. "I'm not laughing at you," she said, sitting up. "I promise. I'm just happy. It isn't often that a woman is paid that kind of tribute, Bobby. You made me feel really good." I saw her hand go up to her face, but in the dark that's all I could see. She spoke again. "You made quite a mess. You need to change shirts. That one is all icky." I sat up, still panting, and kind of let her pull my old shirt over my head. "Do you have another shirt handy?" she asked. "I don't know," I said. I didn't know a whole lot at that particular point. I was pretty frazzled. She giggled again. "Well, was once enough?" "What?" "Are you going to have to go again to get to sleep?" I'd never gone twice in a row. To be honest I thought she was crazy. "No," I gasped. "Well in that case, you probably don't need a shirt. Just get down into your bag." "Okay," I whispered. It was quiet as we both got situated. Then she spoke again. "Bobby?" "Yeah?" "I'm glad I could help." "Thank you," I said, so belatedly that I wasn't sure she'd even know what I meant. "You're welcome." I did get to sleep. But only after I realized it would be possible to go twice in a row. ------- Chapter 2 The next morning was weird, mostly because she acted like nothing had happened. I woke up as she was wiggling into shorts, lying down on her sleeping bag. I pretended to still be asleep, but she nudged me and said it was time to get up and reminded me we were hiking to the falls that morning. Then she took off her sleep shirt. I know I gasped as I saw her breasts, now fully illuminated by the sunlight coming through the tent. Her nipples were dark brown, set on top of circles that were the same color. She pretended I wasn't there and pulled on a different shirt. Then, without a word, she ducked through the door of the tent and started rattling pans. I thought about beating off again, because I was hard, but I had to pee and I knew that would make it hard to cum. Then it occurred to me that I could beat off in the latrine, since I could see anyone coming, so I got up, got dressed, left the tent and jogged to the latrine so she couldn't see the boner in my shorts. I did jerk off, but it was nowhere near as good as what had happened the night before. I mean it felt good and all, but there was no comparison between my hand and hers. I mean no comparison. She still acted like nothing had happened all through breakfast. She had gotten some brochures about the park at the ranger station and read some of it to me during breakfast. It said how high the falls were we were going to hike to, how much water came over them per minute, and how many olympic sized swimming pools it would fill per hour and all that kind of stuff. The hike was normal too. Oddly, even when she hiked in front of me I was able to keep from getting a boner. I think that was because she was acting so normal about it, so it made me feel more normal too. And by the time we got there we were both feeling it in our legs, and sitting on a bench, just watching the water thunder down into a big, bubbly pool was fun. It was easy to let your mind go blank as you watched all that water swirling around. There was a mist from the falls, and it drifted towards us, but that felt good too, because we were both hot and sweaty from the hike. We ate sandwiches there and then hiked back, which was easier because it was all downhill. Still, when we got back we both wanted to go for a swim. "Is my bikini going to be a problem?" she asked, with a half-smile on her face. I think it was her willingness to just face things and accept them as something that had happened and was just part of life or something that let me be less like a kid about it. "Probably," I said. I was serious too. She beamed. "You make me feel so good!" I just stared at her. Any other woman would have told my mother I was being a pervert. "Too bad this isn't a topless lake," she said, her eyes twinkling. "I could really give you a show then." "Oh man," I groaned. I actually covered my eyes with one hand for a second before I realized how stupid that looked and jerked my hand away. "I shouldn't tease you," she said. "Look what happened when I teased you last night." Her sudden attention to something she had ignored all morning (or which I thought she had ignored all morning, ) had me all flummoxed again. That's probably why I said "It's okay." She laughed. Then she stood up. "I'm going to change now." I looked at her. "In the tent," she said. I looked at her. "Are you going to change too?" she asked, grinning now. I was able to nod, but I just stood there. Then her grin faded. "I suppose we should change at separate times. I don't know why I didn't think about that yesterday." She had gone into the tent before my brain glommed on to the idea that she had just offered to change into her bikini in front of me ... in the tent ... and that I had blown the opportunity. "Damn!" I thought suddenly. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She laughed from inside the tent, and I realized I'd spoken all that out loud. ------- Again she acted like nothing had happened when she came out, wearing that damn bikini. She waited for me to go into the tent, and I waited for her to come back in while I changed. She didn't, though, and I felt stupid again. Then, on the way down to the water, she reached for my hand. That might have been weird too, except she pulled and got me running. That made her breasts bounce up and down and because I was watching them jiggle, I tripped over my own feet. She laughed at that too. Again I felt stupid and juvenile, but again she ignored all that and yelled "Bet you can't catch me!" and ran the rest of the way to the lake. I got up and started tearing after her. I got there as she took her last shoe off, but she was watching me and she tossed it at me and jumped into the water, swimming strongly for the floating dock. I kicked my shoes off and did a competition dive, which would have been fine except while the water was deep enough that my chest didn't hit the sandy bottom, my arms were too long to windmill without digging in. Still, I caught her just as she got to the platform and started to climb the ladder. I lunged with one hand and grabbed her hip as it came up out of the water. My fingers clamped onto the bow on the side of her bikini. I didn't actually mean to do that, but the bow came loose and I was treated to a very definitely tanned butt cheek as she squealed and grabbed at her suit. She caught it and managed to keep it on as she stepped up, before turning to look at me, still floating in the water at the foot of the ladder. "Naughty, naughty," she scolded, as she tied the bottoms back in place. "Sorry," I said. She smiled. "No you're not. Don't lie." "I mean I didn't intend to do that." I dragged my finger across and then down the left side of my chest. "Cross my heart," I said. "I just meant to grab you. I mean I caught you. I mean I was only tagging you." She tilted her head to one side, studying me. "Remind me not to run from you on land," she said. I didn't know what that meant, exactly, until she added "I'd be helpless to defend myself then." Actually, now that I think about it, I didn't know what she meant by that either. Not then. ------- Lying on that platform was just like the first time. She untied her top and lay on her stomach with her head on her crossed forearms. I wanted to suggest that she could undo the bottoms too, but was too chicken to say it. I got another boner, but it wasn't quite such a raging one. I had some vivid daydreams, though, and pretty soon I was hard as a rock. One of those daydreams was about us getting back to the tent and changing out of our swim suits. About twenty minutes later she turned her head toward me. "You ready for supper?" "You bet," I said. I was still hard, but now that I knew she knew that, and didn't think I was a pervert, it didn't seem so terrible if she saw my trunks all pushed out. So I got up and she stared right at it, but all she said was "Let's go," and dove off into the water. We didn't race, but we got to the shore together anyway. "Stay down," she said as she stood up. I didn't know what she was doing until I saw her looking around to see if there was anybody else within sight. "Okay," she said. "You can get out of the water now." It was kind of weird, walking beside her to the campsite, knowing that I was sticking out, and knowing she had actually taken action based on that. We got to the tent and she hung up her towel on the clothesline. I was just standing there and she reached for my towel too and I kind of woke up. Like I was in a dream I heard her say "I'm going to change now. Are you going to change too?" It was just like it had been in my daydream. Except in my daydream I'd been all cool about it and had smiled at her invitingly and all that crap, and right now all I could do was nod my head like a bobble doll. She bent over and unzipped the door. Her ass was right there in front of me and I felt a kind of terror start screaming in my head. When I was little I saw this movie about some Irish people and they were attacked by a banshee, which was a black wind that shrieked horribly and scared me half to death. It was like that as she stood back up and held the door open for me. It was a cabin tent, which means a normal person could stand up in it. Aunt Wendy could stand up straight, but I had to stoop. So when I got inside I stood there, kind of bent forward at the waist, frozen, listening to that banshee get closer and closer in my mind. She came in and got down on her knees on her sleeping bag and, just like it was the most normal thing in the world, she reached behind her and untied her top. She did this kind of shrugging motion with her shoulders and the top dropped down onto the floor of the tent. She looked up at me, and I swear nobody in the world would have been able to tell by the look on her face that she was in the act of showing those boobs to her nephew. "I thought you said you were going to change," she said. Her voice was low and sounded kind of rough. Later in life I learned about the word "Lothario." There was no trace of lothario in me at that moment. I just stood there, staring. I might have drooled. It wouldn't surprise me if I did. But she didn't laugh at me. Instead she reached for the bows on her hips and flicked at them, moving one of her knees sideways as the cloth fell between her thighs. My eyes were dragged down as if there were hundred pound weights on each eyeball. I couldn't have not-looked if my life had depended on it. She was, in fact, bald as a baby's butt down there. For the first time in my life I saw a real, live, not-air-brushed set of pussy lips. I groaned. I know I did because I heard it, and she wasn't the one who made that awful noise. Some of those daydreams came rushing back into my head. It didn't help. In fact, all it did was paralyze me further. I felt like I had turned to stone, and was slightly amazed that my ribs would move enough to let me keep breathing. They did, though, because I heard what sounded like an old timey locomotive chuffing away, and realized it was me, breathing. But then things took a turn away from my fantasies. My paralysis remained as she turned and reached into her knapsack. She pulled out a yellow tank top and a pair of khaki shorts with cargo pockets on them. She shrugged into the tank top first, pulling it down and smoothing it over her breasts. It was thin enough I could see the darkness of her nipples through it. Then she stood up and stepped into the shorts - no panties - pulling them up in a smooth motion that included a fantastic wriggle of her hips. She buttoned them, then pulled up the zipper, and only then did she look back at me. "You're so cute," she said, the first thing she'd said since she'd reminded me that I was supposed to get naked too. I hadn't even moved since then, with the exception of my ribs. And my eyeballs, I guess. She dropped to her knees again and, in one jerk, pulled my swimsuit down to my knees. I gasped as the cloth raked painfully along the top of my cock as it was pulled downward by the waistband. "Oh my," she said as my boner bobbed in front of her face. Her face turned up to mine. "I'm sorry. I got a little impatient." Then she looked back at my erection. "My goodness, aren't you a handsome fellow." My ribs were still moving. I know this because I remember what happened next, and there's no way I'd remember that if I'd passed out, which meant I was breathing, which meant my ribs were still moving. She said "You need some more attention ... don't you?" I could not believe she was talking to my penis. It was just freaking bizarre. Of course I hadn't a clue as to how bizarre things were going to get. Until she leaned forward and I felt the heat of her mouth as it closed over my shaft. Something slick and soft and strong swirled around the head of my prick and her cheeks collapsed as she sucked so strongly that I yelped. Then my knees quit working as cum rocketed through my prick and into her mouth. At least until my no-longer-working-knees bent enough that my cock jerked out of her mouth as I fell. My penis tried valiantly to maintain a connection to her mouth, but the only thing it could do was hurriedly spurt again. Said spurt didn't quite make it to her mouth, landing in a long, thin line of white between the two dark spots on the front of her tank top. I spurted again, and tried to spurt three or four more times, but couldn't feel anything come out. I was pretty much out of it. All I could see was her face, which was at the end of this long tunnel. She was looking down at her chest, where I had ruined her shirt, and then looked back at me. Her tongue came out and licked her lips and she suddenly looked worried. I heard her say "Bobby?" from impossibly far away and then her face came toward mine. There was so much that was amazing about that whole thing that it's hard to describe it all. For one thing, as her face came towards me the tunnel got shorter and shorter, like she was driving it away somehow. And then I felt her hands on my face and she said "Honey?" and it didn't sound so far away any more. I mean her face was right by mine, an inch away, but now it sounded right. "I'm okay!" I gasped. That was another part of the weirdness. I was mostly speaking to myself, even though I knew she was worried about me. I said it a second time, this time for her. "I'm okay!" She smiled then, looked relieved, and gave me a kiss on the lips that almost sent me back into that tunnel. But then she pulled away and moved back from me to sit on her sleeping bag. "You're sure you're all right," she said. I nodded. I was still breathing hard, but in deeper breaths now, and I didn't feel so much like I was going to float away. I wasn't paralyzed any more either. I felt stupid sitting there with my trunks around my knees, so I pushed them down and got my feet out of them. I decided I needed to get dressed, and looked for my pack. I started to roll to get on my hands and knees - I still felt too weak to stand up - and then she whipped that yellow tank top off and I fell back on my ass. "Calm down," she giggled. "You're going to see lots more of them in the next week. Get used to it." Don't ask me how or why, but suddenly I didn't feel quite so fragmented. She spoke with such assurance that I felt like I could get my clothes and wouldn't miss anything. Or what I missed would be available later. Or something. She put on a new shirt, this time a Mickey Mouse Club T shirt, and went outside, leaving me to get dressed, which was somehow a lot easier than it had been when she was there, watching. I went outside to find her dumping cans of beef stew into a pot that she set on the camp stove to heat. She told me to get the bread out, and if I wanted butter or peanut butter, to bring that too. It was so crazy weird that something ... well ... crazy weird would happen ... and then everything would be completely back to normal. Or as normal as things would ever be again. I wasn't real sure what that was going to be like. We started eating and it was quiet for a while. At one point she paused after she swallowed. "So you're a virgin." It wasn't a question. "Um ... yeah," I said. "I'm surprised," she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say. "Why?" I had to know. "Because you're gorgeous," she said calmly. "You're tall, and handsome. You've got muscles on your muscles. I just find it hard to believe no girl has snapped you up before this." That "before this" thing got my attention in a big way. My daydreams came flooding back and the banshee started gearing up to scream again. It sounded so much like she meant there was going to be an "after this" while we were still camping. I didn't say that right, but you know what I mean. "Plus you're sweet and smart," she said. Then she snorted. "I feel like such a cougar!" "Cougar?" I asked. "That's an older woman who seduces a boy or young man," she said. "You're not older," I said automatically. She laughed. "I know, but thanks anyway." My next question didn't seem stupid until after I'd asked it. "Are you seducing me?" She didn't laugh that time, and it felt like my stomach had dropped clear to my feet. "I'm not supposed to be. That's not why I decided to take you camping," she said. That hadn't answered the question, but since she hadn't said "Of course I'm not seducing you, silly boy," I decided to leave that alone. Not that I thought she really was. Actually I didn't know what to think, but I had lots of hope in me. "So why did you take me camping?" I asked instead. "Because I like you," she said. "You're not full of testosterone and bullshit like most men are." She glanced at me sideways. "Well not as full of testosterone, anyway." Then she grinned. "And I really did want to go camping." "Oh," I said. I had the vague feeling that she had just insulted me somehow, but she hadn't said it in an insulting manner, so I didn't pursue that either. "Anyway, I never intended to ... um ... do things with you. Actually I came along to have some fun and to let you get a break. Lord knows you could use one. I had no idea how hard farming could be until my sister married a farmer." "I am having fun," I blurted and then felt my face get hot because I knew what part of all this was the fun part. Even if it had happened so fast I could hardly remember it. And I knew that aunts and their nephews weren't really supposed to have that kind of fun. She looked over at me and her face kind of softened. "See there?" she said. "That's what I mean. You're just fucking irresistible. If you were five years older I'd be tearing off my clothes right now." I sat there, my mind in turmoil. I blinked a lot. There was just so much to think about that it took some time. Like the fact that our family relationship didn't seem to bother her. No, that wasn't it. It was more like we had multiple relationships, one of which was family, but one of which was that she just liked me. That was really weird too, because while I knew people I would call my friends, none of them were female. And if any of my friends had tried to do to me what this woman had done, I'd have hauled off and decked them. It was a little overwhelming. When that happens the brain sometimes seizes on something else to concentrate on, something more familiar and less threatening. "I've never heard a woman cuss before," I said. As soon as I said it I wanted to put my head down and cry. I couldn't believe how stupid I could be sometimes. "Sorry," she said. "That's the United States Air Force. I had to take classes on proper cursing." I looked at her and she was smiling. It was a beautiful smile. "How come you're not married?" I asked, again without thinking. "Because I don't want to be married," she said firmly. "Oh." "Don't get the wrong idea," she said. "I like men. But I'm not ready to tie myself to one of them. Not yet, anyway. I don't know. Maybe some day I'll meet a man I can't stand to be away from or whatever it is that makes women want to get married. Somebody interesting and smart, and who makes me feel good inside. Somebody like you, maybe." I jerked like I'd touched a live wire and she laughed and reached out to touch my arm. "Somebody a little older than you, Bobby, but otherwise with your sterling and attractive qualities." I didn't know if she was teasing me or not. All I knew was that I didn't like the feeling in my stomach at that moment. I decided that was because I really liked the idea of her wanting a man like me (which blew me away) but it was obvious I wasn't actually in the running. It was like seeing a beautiful Camaro or Corvette and knowing you'd never have one. There is the enjoyment of knowing that such beauty exists, mingled with the sadness of knowing all you can do is look. "So!" she said, quickly and loudly enough that I jumped again. "What do you want to do next?" The mind is an amazing thing. I had never really paid that much attention to it before, but a human brain can think of things really fast. At that moment a bunch of those fantasies about her and me flooded my mind. Of course instantly I knew that wasn't what she meant, and I felt my face turning red again. I tried to make my mind go to other things, but she was looking right at me and I suddenly felt like she could see right inside my brain, which was still thinking about her naked, and me naked, and stuff going on that I knew the theory of, but had never actually done. I think what kept me from running away right then and there was her eyes. They twinkled. I'd read about that a hundred times, but I'd never seen anybody's eyes do anything I would have called twinkling. But hers did. It's hard to explain, but somehow her eyes told me she knew what I was thinking and wasn't mad about it. She licked her lips and I realized I had a full blown boner again. "If you could bottle that you'd be a millionaire within a month," she said softly. One of her hands drifted up to her chest and my jaw dropped as I saw her find and squeeze a nipple through her shirt. Then she jerked and blushed and stood up suddenly. "Fishing!" she said. "We're supposed to catch fish and have them for supper!" ------- We had ponds on the farm for the cattle, and they all had fish in them, so I had been a fisherman since I was five or six. But I hadn't fished in a big lake, or for Grayling or Lake Trout. We had decided to fish the lake because we didn't really have the right gear for river fishing. And though it was the same in a lot of ways, it was also different. She was a good fisherman. Or fisherwoman, or whatever you call them. If you don't know what being a good fisherman means then you don't fish, and I can't explain it to you. It has very little to do with whether or not you actually catch fish. It's more of a culture thing. Anyway, we didn't have much luck fishing from the shore, so she popped for renting a small aluminum fishing boat with a thirty-five horsepower motor on it and we went in search of our own secret fishing hole. She sat in the back, with her hand on the throttle and steered. I wondered briefly where she'd learned about boat motors and steering and such, but then we were moving and the wind was in my hair and this was what I'd come here for and I concentrated on having a good time. She seemed to have some destination in mind, because she kept that motor flat out for a good ten minutes and we arrowed straight across the lake toward a bulge in the shore. Once we were out on the lake proper, and there wasn't much to see, I turned around and looked back at her. She was staring right at me. "What are you looking at?" I asked, trying to sound like a gangster. "You," she yelled. "Why?" I asked, losing the gangster feeling. "Because you're gorgeous." Even with the wind on my face I could feel the blood rushing there. She laughed, but it didn't make me feel bad. This kind of teasing I could live with. I turned back around and watched the shore get closer. It turned out she had looked at a map in the marina and had seen this little part of the shore that was shaped like a comma, sort of. It came out and then curved back toward the shore. So there was this little area behind it that was protected from the wind. You couldn't actually see it from the lake, and you had to drive the boat around the tip of the comma to get in there. She had decided this would be a place where the big ones lay around, eating and getting fat. There was nobody else there, either. Once we had thrown the cement-filled coffee can that was our anchor over the side, we started getting things ready to fish. She stayed in the back, and I stayed in the front, but I turned around to face her. She stood up and took her shirt off, to reveal the bikini top I now had a love/hate relationship with. She shucked her shorts and got out some sun screen. I watched her slather it all over her shoulders, arms, upper chest, belly and legs. She looked up at me. "What are you looking at?" she growled. "You," I said. My voice kind of cracked. "Why?" Her voice had changed to that of a cartoon character and she was grinning. I didn't go along with her joking manner, though. "Because you're gorgeous," I said softly. Her hands stopped moving and the smile kind of faded slowly from her mouth, but she didn't look disappointed or anything. "Damn," she said. "You have no idea how dangerous you are, do you." "Me?" I asked, honestly confused. "Oh brother," she sighed. "This is not turning out like I thought it would." "I'm sorry," I said automatically. "Not your fault," she said. Her hands started moving again. "You are who you are, and I knew that when I decided to come along. I just didn't think..." She stopped, looked up at me and grinned. "I just didn't think. That, my fine young man, is the reason for half the problems in the world. Sometimes people just don't think." "I'm glad you came," I said. She glanced up from watching the sunscreen being smoothed onto the skin between her thighs. I was looking there too, but glanced up to see that her face was calm. "I know," she said. "I'm glad I came too." She stood up and came toward me, sitting on the middle seat with her back to me. She handed the bottle of sunscreen over her shoulder. "Do my back?" I was happy to do her back. To put this in context I was ecstatic to do her back. I did a really good job of it too. I bet it took me ten minutes to properly coat her back. She just sat there while I slid my oily hands all over her skin. I wanted to untie her top, but I knew better. Then when I was finally done, she turned around and said "You too. I don't want you sunburned." I took my shirt off, ignoring the erection in my shorts. I hadn't thought to wear my swim suit under my clothes. I figure she changed into hers while I was in the latrine, answering the call. Even if I hadn't had a boner when I took my shirt off, I'd have gotten one as her hands slid all over my chest and arms. She squeezed my boobs, of all things, and giggled. "You're in fantastic shape," she commented. Then she had me turn around and she did my back, all too quickly, if you ask me. Finally she had me sit down and she did my legs. She slid her hands much too far up into the legs of my shorts and I sucked in air and held it. She laughed again, and pulled them back out. "Maybe later," she said and leaned up to peck me on the lips. My breath came out in a kind of whooshing groan and she laughed some more. She looked straight at the lump in my shorts. "It won't kill you," she said. "Men all say it will, but I know better. Now. I thought we came here to catch fish, not ogle each other like lovesick teenagers." It wasn't until almost an hour and three fish later that I looked up at her and said, "What if I am a lovesick teenager?" ------- Chapter 3 My aunt was looking at me, her head tilted a little. I felt like something under a microscope. She hadn't answered my question yet, and ten minutes had gone by. Okay, maybe not ten full minutes, but it felt like it. "Do you want me to take my top off?" she asked suddenly. I swallowed, but didn't say anything. "Come on, Bobby, it's not that hard a question," she said. There was an edge in her voice. I didn't know what to say. I mean I knew the answer, but I was afraid to say the answer. You know how sometimes somebody asks a question that either nobody can answer, or maybe nobody wants to answer, and there's an awkward silence, and then somebody changes the subject and ignores the question? Yeah ... that didn't happen here. "Do you want to see my breasts, Bobby?" she asked. "Okay, yes," I finally said. I waited for something to happen. I figured it wouldn't be good. "Do you want to see me entirely naked?" she asked. This was getting ridiculous now. "Of course I do," I said. I think there was a little edge in my own voice at that point. I mean what kind of questions were these to ask a sixteen-year-old boy? It's not like a sixteen year old boy would say "Um ... no ... I'm not much interested in seeing the naked bodies of women I get boners for." Her voice was definitely hard when she spoke again. "You're not in love, Bobby. You're in lust. Try not to confuse the two." That didn't seem fair somehow. I mean I was only sixteen, even if I was going to turn seventeen in October. I have one of those tempers that my mom calls a 'bubble temper.' What that means is that my anger bubbles out suddenly, but then pops and is gone again really fast. That happened now. "How the hell am I supposed to know the difference?" I said kind of loud. Believe it or not I felt guilty, not because I yelled at my aunt, but because I yelled while we were fishing. How stupid is that? Her face kind of wrinkled up and then relaxed. Her shoulders, which I hadn't even realized were tense, relaxed too. "Good point," she said, almost like she was talking to herself. She looked off toward the shore, and then back at me. "Hurry up and catch another fish," she said. "What?" I was confused. "Two apiece for supper," she said. "We only have three. So one of us needs to catch another one instead of jaw-jacking and scaring the fish away." I figured I had been dismissed. She sounded like a typical adult at that point, and I felt pretty much like a typical kid who had somehow done something wrong that I couldn't understand why it was wrong. So I went back to fishing. About fifteen minutes later, during which neither of us made a single sound, she hissed and set her hook. "Finally!" she said, clearly elated. I just figured she was happy because now she'd caught up with me on the fish count. She got the fish in and off the hook. Then she laid her pole down and leaned over to wash her hands in the lake. She sat back up and looked at me. I swear she looked like a cat, looking at a mouse. "I should wait," she said softly. "But I can't. That's how good you are, my fine young nephew." "What?" I asked in a complaining voice. I had no idea what was going on and I was starting to get nervous. She reached behind her and undid her bikini top. As it fell she stood and shoved her bottoms down, instead of untying them. I know I was looking at her like a deer in the headlights as she stepped over the middle seat towards me. She knelt in front of me. "If you hear a boat, you better tell me ASAP," she said, her voice husky. "Now stand up!" Used to following orders, I stood and she attacked my shorts, opening them and pulling my underwear down with them. My penis had been trying to get hard ever since she bared her breasts, but it was only about half way there. Her hand came up and gripped it between her thumb and two fingers and she skinned the foreskin back, baring the knob. She kissed the tip, said "I've missed you," sighed, and then sucked my now mostly hard cock into her mouth. Her hands went to grip my butt cheeks and I swayed, making the whole boat rock. My feet widened instinctively, and when I grabbed her head with both of my hands it was purely to keep from falling over. Bits and pieces of that will always be in my memory. Because I was so tall she could kneel without hunching over. That pressed her breasts against my knees. I'll always remember that. I know it seems silly, but it's the first place her breasts ever touched my body, and I can still, to this very day, remember what it felt like. About half of my cock was in her mouth, being sucked deliciously when I grabbed her head. Like I said, I only did that to keep from falling overboard, but when I did it she let me pull her nose right against my body, which just seemed impossible. I mean I'm not a foot long or anything, but it looked like more than would fit in a woman's mouth. That felt just weird. Of course I was feeling other things too. Her jaws acted like she had a big wad of chewing gum in her mouth, and her tongue was all over the place and I think I made baby sounds because there was this ball of something huge that was expanding in my loins and it felt like it was going to shoot up and explode out the top of my head. I looked down and her nose was buried in the brown hairs I was so proud of down there. I know my eyes were bugged out, but they stayed in my head. Then, as I watched, her lips kind of pooched out and started pulling off, exposing the cock I was very familiar with, but which now looked completely different somehow. It was fully hard now, and watching those pink lips sliding along my rigid column not only felt different, it made my pecker look different too. I was actually kind of proud of it in that instant, because it was so thick and firm looking. Her lips got to the head and slid off. She swallowed and kissed the tip and then slid her lips back over the crown, to lock in the dip behind the knob. Her tongue started moving all around and she sucked and I groaned and just as I felt the sweet release of semen entering my prick, her right hand came off my butt and slid around so that her thumb and first finger could squeeze the base of my cock. I thought I was going to die right then and there. I know I must have gripped her hair painfully. She paid me back by cutting off that soothing flow like a hatchet cuts off a chicken's head. I groaned pitifully. She pulled her lips back, but left her tongue connected to the tip of my cock. She let up on the pressure and a big dollop of white oozed out of the tip, right onto the tip of her tongue. She curled her tongue back into her mouth and I heard her swallow again. "Mmmmmmm." That sound made my balls feel like they were going to burst any second. She looked up at me. "You taste yummy." Then she took her hand away, put her mouth back, pressed her nose into my pubes again and I started vibrating like a poplar tree in a windstorm. This time when I felt the soothing jets, she stayed right where she was. How she could swallow with my cock all the way in her like that, I don't know, but I felt her do it. She did cough once, and pulled back so that only half of my penis was in her mouth, but it didn't matter to me. Nothing in my whole life had ever felt that good. She kept sucking and kissing and playing with my peter until it got so small and shriveled up that I thought she might have killed it. Then she looked up at me and said, "I'm going to teach you how to make a woman that happy." ------- Of course I had heard of eating pussy. Most of my friends bragged that they'd done it hundreds of times. No matter that there were only forty-six girls in our entire senior class, with maybe another hundred girls in the lower classes. I mean it wasn't mathematically possible for all the guys I knew to have eaten that much pussy unless they hit every girl in school at least three or four times. And I knew Julie May had never gotten her pussy eaten. Had she? That was just a flicker of a smidgen of a doubt as Aunt Wendy pulled up my shorts and told me to button them. "No sense in both of us having to try to get dressed if somebody comes," she muttered. Then she had us switch places and she sat down on the seat and leaned back and spread her legs. Remember, now ... she was buck naked ... the first real woman I'd ever seen that way, and for sure the only one I'd ever seen displaying herself completely unashamed, not only in front of me, but actually for me. So yes, I was a basket case. My cock tried like the dickens to get hard again, but that was a lost cause. The next thing I knew I was on my hands and knees and my nose was an inch from her firm, pale pussy lips and she was talking. I think it was her talking that is responsible for me not becoming a raving lunatic at that moment. She gave me a forty-five second tour of her girly parts. I swear it! Her fingers spread herself open and one polished and pointed fingernail began touching and pointing out things as her voice identified them. It was sex ed the way it should have been taught. Then she commenced to instruct me on just how to use my lips, tongue, teeth and even my nose, of all things, to make her squeal. And squeal she did. If you've never done this, you really need to try it some day. You're in for a treat. Not that that's what I thought at first. At first I was afraid it would smell nasty and taste nasty and I was sure I'd throw up and ruin everything. But that was only a flicker of a smidgen of a fear that vanished just as soon as my nose was close enough to catch a whiff of what her pussy actually smelled like. And she tasted even better! Anyway, I didn't even have to worry about whether I was doing it right or not, because she told me whether I was doing it right or not. And pretty soon, what with me being a pretty quick learner generally, all she was saying was things like "Ohhh yes, Bobby, just like that," and "Mmmm keep going ... yes ... ohhh that's it, baby." And when a woman talks like that for fifteen minutes in a row and never has a bad thing to say to you, it makes you feel pretty damn good, let me tell you that. I didn't find out until later that she had very quiet, almost secret orgasms. I did notice that every once in a while her breathing would speed up and she'd pant and make these almost chanting little noises, but I didn't know they were orgasms. Not then. All I knew was that she wanted me to keep doing it, and I was more than happy to oblige. When I realized my cock was rock hard again it didn't even bother me, because it was obvious now that that was a perfectly all right way for it to be. Finally she said it was enough, and lay back to catch her breath. Her legs were still wide open, and I stared at what I'd been nibbling on for half an hour. Her pussy lips had been tight, pale strips of swollen skin when I started, but now they were loose, almost floppy, and they were a darkish pink. They weren't tight together either, but formed a kind of wrinkled opening that was dark inside. I knew that was where a man's penis went ... into that darkness, but it was still just academic knowledge at that point. I honestly didn't think about dropping my shorts and sticking my own rigid penis in there. It's hard to explain. I knew it was theoretically possible, but it just wasn't something as real as, say, eating pussy now was. That had been theoretically possible too, half an hour ago. Now it was something I knew how to do, and loved doing. Anyway, she sat up. I was still kneeling, staring at her pussy. "So, I take it you enjoyed that," she said. I looked up and she had that smile on her face again, the one where I wasn't sure if she was teasing me or not. I nodded and licked my lips. I didn't know my whole face was shiny with her juices. "Are you hard again?" she asked. I nodded some more. "Let me get my suit on first," she said. I wondered about that while she pulled her bikini back on, and wondered even more when she put her shorts on too. But I didn't have time to think about that as she had me sit down where she'd been, and lean back. She got my shorts open again and I ended up standing up while she pulled them down. It bounced into the open like a cheerleader doing cartwheels ... just full of energy and excitement. And the cool thing about it was that I knew it wouldn't be full for long, because she was going to make it all tired again. She reached for it and squeezed it as I sat back down. "So hard," she murmured. She had me lean back, but she didn't suck it this time. Instead she just jerked me off. She started slowly, almost like she was playing with it. She also shifted her grip a couple of times. I found out later she was watching my reaction as she tried different grips. She settled into one that put my foreskin in the upper half of her palm, where her thumb could stroke the head of my cock as her hand bared it. Then she speeded up. "I knew you could last a while if we practiced enough," she said. "Uhhhh," was all I could get out. She seemed to know somehow that if she went just a smidgen faster I'd pop, but she kept her speed just below that. Then she started talking ... saying things that made me crazy. "Such a strong, long, handsome prick," she sighed. "You gonna cum for me, handsome prick? You gonna spurt for little old Wendy?" She shifted her attention from my penis to my face, and sped up a little more. "Cum for me, Bobby," she purred. "I want you to squirt way up in the air for me. I want to see you cum and know it's all for me." "Gaaaaahhhhh" I groaned. I was right on the edge. She was using her right hand, and I saw her left go behind her. Her bikini bra sagged, and then fell from those perfect titties. "I'm gonna aim it at my breasts, Bobby. Can you cum on my breasts? I want to feel your hot jism on my nipples, Bobby. Come on, Baby, squirt for me." Her hand sped up the magical amount and I had what I'm sure my mother would have described as a conniption fit. My prick spat so hard it hurt. Aunt Wendy leaned forward and almost touched the tip of my cock with her right nipple. A rope of white painted it and she moved her body so that the second jet got all over her left breast as she pressed it to the tip of my cock. She kept jerking, and as the surges of soothing semen lessened she tilted my cock so that she could collect it in her left palm. Then she smeared it all over her naked upper body. She let go of my penis so she could use both hands, and she looked up at the sky with her eyes closed, a smile on her lips. I watched both hands try to get into her shorts, but they were too tight. She pulled them back up and massaged her breasts, twiddling her nipples and baring her teeth. A growl came from her throat and "Wendy's Wolves" popped into my head. She lowered her head. Her eyes opened and looked at me with that same hungry look she'd had before. It was a cat look, though ... not a wolf look. "You, my friend," she said, her voice low and husky, "are a problem." "Me?" I know I was staring, wide eyed and open mouthed. "Oh yeah," she sighed. She leaned forward and put spermy hands on my shoulders. "Kiss me," she ordered. ------- I know you're probably getting tired of me saying that I can't explain things, and can only remember parts of things, but you have to remember all this was brand new to me. When I left my parents' house to go camping with my aunt, I had zero sexual experience with the exception of 'self abuse, ' as my mother called it. Since then I'd seen my first naked woman, gotten and given a blow job, blown more spunk in two days than I had in the previous two months and was about a thousand percent more educated on things sexual than I had been. And then, piled on top of all that, there was this kiss. I'd been kissed before, by lots of different people, including the woman who was kissing me at that moment. But she had never kissed me like that before. Nobody had ever kissed me like that before. It was a kiss that threatened to pull my insides out through my nose if I didn't suck in enough air to block that avenue of escape. My heart hammered in my chest. My lungs labored like I'd just finished a five mile sprint. My groin felt like it was just going to break loose and fall in a heap. It was so powerful, with her lips chewing almost, and her tongue flicking in and out of my mouth, that I honestly thought something in each of us had flowed together to join in a way that could never... ever ... be separated. It must be what twins feel like, when they say they can feel what each other is feeling. Her lips dragged off mine, and I distinctly remember leaning forward, trying not to let hers get away. I had closed my eyes and as I opened them I saw hers, only inches away. They fluttered and she seemed to sway slightly. "Oh Bobby," she sighed. "What are you doing to me?" I didn't have the faintest idea what I was doing to her. I was much too busy trying to sort out what she was doing to me. But it didn't matter, because she leaned forward to kiss me again. We ended up in the bottom of the boat, kind of cramped between the seats, sort of half lying down. I know I felt her hands moving on my skin, and I'm pretty sure my hands might have moved around a little too, but almost all my attention was on her lips, and what they felt like, and what they were making me feel like. I had always thought kisses like this were sexual, but it went way beyond that. There was something spiritual about this kind of kissing. It created a kind of awe that made every second of it something precious, to be cherished and remembered forever. I know, I know. I'm making a big deal and going on and on about a simple kiss. But that's the point. There was nothing simple about that kiss at all. It changed me. Something gelled in me. I felt something deep inside me that I would be able to recognize from that moment on. I didn't really understand it then, of course, even though I knew something important had happened, but always after that, all I had to do was kiss a woman and I knew instantly if there was any chemistry between us or not. That kiss - I still think of it as one kiss, even though it was really a long series of them - finally ended, and it was completely different than what I felt after I ate her pussy. When she sucked me, or I got to taste her, I wanted it to go on and on forever. But kissing her was more like eating a fine meal. There came a point where you were comfortably satisfied, and if you stopped there, it felt good for a long time. You knew you could repeat that meal again, when you got hungry again, but it was enough for now. I know it affected her too, because her eyes were misty when we finally stopped. She kissed me three more times, but they were different. They were urgent, quick kisses, hard and demanding, but not requiring that I do anything but be there. Then she scrambled back to the motor and jerked it to life. She powered out of that little cove and around the comma shaped land and headed back to the marina at full speed. I picked up her bikini top and held it out to her, a little wide-eyed. She blinked, looked down at her shiny naked skin and powered down fast. She giggled hysterically for a few seconds, said "Be right back," and then dove overboard. I saw her washing my stuff off her upper body. I helped her back into the boat and she put her bikini top back on. She was shaking her head and muttering, but I couldn't hear what she was actually saying. Then she started the motor again and headed back to the dock. ------- She seemed antsy from the moment we got back to the dock, all the way through cleaning the fish and cooking them. We had dehydrated potatoes au-something-or-other and she opened a can of baked beans. It was the perfect meal after the perfect day and I was floating on cloud nine. I mean it didn't get any better than this. This exceeded even my wildest dreams about getting some time off from the farm and going camping. "Bath time," she said suddenly, putting her plate down on the ground. "It's only six-thirty," I said, looking at my watch. "Don't argue with me," she said a little tensely. "Go take a shower while I wash the dishes. Then I'll go." "Okay," I said, trying to make my voice sound like I thought it was a goofy plan. I went and stripped down in the shower room. I was surprised at how good it felt to get clean, and realized I'd been sweating all day long. I finished up and combed my hair. When I got back she was just dumping the wash water. She handed me the pot to put away and grabbed her stuff. "I'll be right back," she said. "Stay here. Don't jerk off, okay?" "What?" I was amazed that she could still shock me. "Just wait for me in the tent," she said. Adults aren't always weird, but they have this capacity to be weird without warning and just about any time of the day. Anyway, I sat down on my sleeping bag and waited. I noticed that hers had been unzipped and left open, spread out. I decided that was to air it out and thought it was a good idea, so I unzipped mine and opened it up too. I was fluffing it up when she came into the tent. She was still wearing her bikini, and it was dripping wet. I wondered if she'd worn it while she showered. "What are you doing?" she asked, coming to a sudden halt. "Airing out my bag ... like you did," I said, looking up at her and frowning. She was acting so weird! "Airing out..." She closed her eyes like my mother did when she was disgusted about something, and then opened them. They got misty again. "Oh Bobby," she sighed. "If you hadn't already done it, you'd have done it just then. Get undressed, baby." "What?" I followed that up almost immediately with "Okay!" because I didn't want her to get out of whatever mood she was in, weird or not. While I took off the clothes I'd just put on in the shower room she removed her bikini. I knew something was crazy when she began masturbating right there in front of me, still standing up, sliding her slim middle finger in and out of her pussy. She started panting, and saying my name. "Oh Bobby ... oh Bobby ... oh baby ... hurry. Mamma needs you, baby." The craziness went on. She lay down on her bag, on her side, facing me. And she seemed to calm down. "Look," she said softly. "I shouldn't do this. I shouldn't take this away from you like this. It only happens once, and I have no right to steal it from you, but I can't help it. You've done something to me and I've never felt like this before. So I'm sorry, baby, but I need you now worse than I've ever needed a man before." What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? I had a vague idea what she was talking about, but that fucking banshee was right outside the tent, screeching and looking for a way in so it could surround me in darkness and suck the life out of me. And she was right there, naked, waiting for me to do something, and I didn't know what to do. So I just let my brain kind of go into freewheel mode. To be honest I hoped for the best. I hoped I wouldn't do something stupid and I trusted her to tell me whatever I needed to know. I had no idea what that was going to be, but that's what I did. My voice, when I spoke, produced words I didn't think about consciously. They came straight from my heart. "I love you." Her eyes glistened and then a tornado somehow found its way inside our tent. It threw me on top of her as she rolled to her back. Her legs flew wide and I sank down between them. I felt her hand find my penis, which was amazingly and suddenly like iron, and then I felt heat replace her hand as her other hand gripped my butt cheek and her fingernails dug in, causing me to lurch forward automatically to get away from the pain. Then I got it. I mean I finally understood what was happening. Imagine someone who is born in a cave and doesn't ever go outside. He tries to comprehend the meaning of the word 'sun, ' as described by those who leave the cave. He forms a set of beliefs about that sun, but they don't really mean anything. They don't matter or affect his life. Then one day someone takes him outside and he views the sun rise. He sits there for a couple of hours, feeling the heat grow and grow. Then he begins to understand what 'sun' really means. All my confusion vanished. All the fantasies melted away. I concentrated on the reality of what was happening. That is not to say that I was calm and cool; anything but. I was a wreck, physically. But in my mind I now knew what was going on and while I had no experience at it, I wanted to learn everything there was to learn. And like the other things we had done sexually, I suddenly wanted it never to end ... to go on for hours and hours ... until hunger and thirst forced us to stop. She cried out, a sound that was full of passion, with no hint of pain, anger, need ... no shred of anything negative was in her voice. I knew, somehow that I was responsible for that sound, and I was almost ridiculously proud. I began to take stock of what was actually going on. My body was thrashing on top of her. Both her hands were now gripping my ass, digging in with sharp nails, and I realized I was fighting her. She was actually trying to get my body to move in a particular way. About then I was distracted by the feel of my penis in something completely unique. It was hot and wet, almost like her mouth, but really different. She was squeezing all of my penis at the same time. It felt really, really good to go in as far as I could and hold it there. Her nails got my attention again, trying to drag my lower body to my right. To see if that was the right thing to do, I did it. "Yesss," she hissed, right in my ear. It was like a cattle prod and I jerked. "Oh fuck," she moaned. Her hands directed me the other way and I dug my toes into the sleeping bag as I swung my hips back to the left. I heard a squishy, wet sound from down there and she whined. She kept trying to get me to go back and forth, but I found it was easier to go in a circle instead. I knew I was supposed to go in and out. I'd even seen it in a porn clip Tom Madsen had on his laptop. But it felt so good to be all the way in, with her squeezing me, that I didn't worry about it. I figured if I was supposed to do that, her hands would tell me, and right now her hands liked the circles. They liked the circles a lot. Pretty soon the pain was gone, because her nails weren't digging in any more. They were just gripping my hips, helping me do those circles. She said "Yes, oh yes" about a dozen times and then went stiff and whined. Her hands moved up to my back and she tried to crush me, but she didn't have the strength. When she relaxed again, her hands went back to my ass and told me to keep doing the circles. I didn't even think about cumming. It was way too much fun to do this to worry about something I could do at the drop of a hat. Besides, I didn't think I could cum this way. I mean it felt fantastic, but ... It was then I realized why there was the in and out. It was like jerking off when you went in and out. I got distracted by her stiffening up again and whining, this time about how she loved me as she tried to crush me again. And, of course, I told her I loved her too. It was true, after all. But this time it was a conscious decision to say it, in response to what she said to me. It had a strange effect on her, though. She stiffened up and whined and crushed me, but she didn't relax this time. Instead, she went crazy, and started talking to me like she had before. "Cum in me, Bobby," she panted. "Give me your sweet stuff, baby. Squirt for me, baby." I pulled back for the first time since she pulled me in. The feel of that was amazing, because she was squeezing me again and I could feel her muscles rippling as I moved. And going back in was just fantastic. I figured out real quick why guys move in and out. I mean being deep inside her is great, but moving in her is electric. "Come on, baby, give me a pussy bath," she cooed. "Oh man," I groaned as the feeling was suddenly there. Then I didn't know what to do, because always in the past I had my hand on it when it squirted. Well ... except for the two times it had been in her mouth. Some dim warning told me this wasn't her mouth, but before I could work on that thought her fingernails solved the problem because as I groaned piteously and felt like bawling like a baby, she grabbed my butt again and dug in. That planted me deep inside her again as I shook with the force of the jets that shot from my cock. I felt like my whole body was trying to collapse and squirt out of my penis. I made nonsense noises and realized I was jerking, almost moving her across the sleeping bag with the force of my thrusts. And, as I had discovered several times already in the last couple of days, I found yet another thing that felt better than anything ever had in my whole life. I suddenly had no energy left, and went limp on top of her. I felt bad because I knew I was heavy and was crushing her, so I tried to roll to one side. Her arms caught me, though and kept me there. I managed to lift my head, but that caused me to slide down her, and my cock came out. She made a complaining sound that made me feel like I was a king of some kind. Then her face was right in front of mine and she gave me another one of those soul-wrenching kisses that went on and on and on until I had to pull back just to breathe. "You okay?" she asked softly. "Are you kidding?" I croaked. "Nothing will ever be that good ... ever in my entire life." She tried to laugh but I was too heavy. I pushed up with my arms and as my weight transferred to her breasts I slid a little bit. Her breasts felt so wonderful sliding against my chest, but suddenly I had a horrible thought. "Did I do okay?" Even I could hear the uncertainty in my voice. She hugged me and kissed me again, but not one of those kisses. "You were amazing, under the circumstances. Suffice it to say I'll never ever kick you out of bed for eating crackers." "Wow," I sighed. She kissed me again. "I'm very happy that you're happy. I still feel like I shouldn't have taken your virginity, though." "I'm glad you did." Now that I wasn't lying full on her she could laugh again and she did so. "I bet you are, stud." I felt a shiver of joy shoot through me. She'd called me 'stud.' That was a good thing, and I felt proud. ------- If she had said to, I'd have stayed naked, in that tent, for the next twenty-four hours. At that point I'd have done anything she asked or told me to. It was still a little weird, though, especially when I rolled off of her and looked to see thick white stuff leaking from her pussy. That thick white stuff was ... me. It was my sperm. I'd never thought of what came out of my prick as sperm before this. But seeping from her I was very aware that it was sperm, and that it was dangerous. That earlier dim warning in my mind popped up again, much clearer this time. "Are you going to get pregnant?" I asked quietly. She looked over at me. She'd been looking for something. It turned out to be a roll of paper towels. She used one to clean up between her legs. "No," she said. "Oh." I felt a rush of relief, but there was some sadness in there somewhere too. I didn't understand that. She must have heard something in my voice, because she didn't just let it drop there. "How would you feel if I was?" she asked. "I have no idea," I said, being honest. "Well don't' worry about it," she said. "I shouldn't have done it, and I'll try to keep better control of myself in the future." The look on my face must have been comical because she laughed so hard that she rolled over onto her side. Eventually she gasped "Swimming!" and pointed to my suit. She was still chuckling as she put her bikini back on. We took our time swimming out to the platform. It was late evening by then. There was nobody around. "This is so nice," she said, holding on to the side of the dock. "I'm so glad I came." "Me too," I said. She smiled. "You're supposed to be enjoying camping, not sex." "I'm enjoying both," I said. "What am I going to do with you?" she sighed. "I don't know, but after today I can't wait to find out," I confessed. She shook her head, but she pulled me over and told me to hold on to the dock. While I did it felt like an octopus was attacking me or something. She kissed me over and over and these were yet again different kinds of kisses. They were hungry and her hands moved all around my body while she did it. She stuck her hand in my trunks and played with my penis and balls. Then she pulled it out and stroked all over my chest and back. And all the time she was kissing me with these hard, exciting kisses. And all I could do was hold us up beside the dock. Finally she stopped. Her legs were wrapped around my waist and her arms were around my neck. "See what you do to me?" she complained. "I'm ready to go again, and it's all your fault. You're too tempting, Bobby Martin!" "I didn't do anything," I said in my defense. "You don't have to, you idiot," she sighed. "You're just so ... so ... I can't explain it, but you make me crazy." "I can't help it," I said. "Of course you can't," she agreed. "That's part of your charm. You don't try to do it. You're just you, and you, Bobby, are impossible to resist." "Well thank you," I said. "But I have to tell you that girls have been resisting me for years." "They won't when you get a chance to spend some time with them," she said. "No way," I said. "Look," she said, squeezing me with her legs. "After last night I decided things had gone too far. I decided I was going to be a good girl for the rest of the trip. Even your poor pouting little boy face didn't sway my resolve. But within ten minutes of deciding to be good all I could think about was getting you somewhere private. I even tried to fight that, but it didn't do any good. And now, ten minutes after some amazing loving, all I can think about is getting you in bed again. The girls you go out with won't have a chance, Bobby. In fact, it's going to be up to you to take care of them." "Take care of them?" "Protect them from ... danger." "I'd never hurt anybody," I said. "It's going to be up to you to keep them from getting knocked up, Bobby. They're not going to plan to sleep with you, but I'll bet my last dollar that a bunch of them end up wanting to, and they might not be prepared, so you're going to have to be. That's what I mean. You have this special quality, and it's going to get you laid well and often. But that comes with responsibility." "You mean I have to wear a condom," I said. "Exactly." "I don't have any," I said. "Not with me. I'm different. With them, Bobby." "There isn't going to be any 'them'," I said. "I told you I never get to date." "You will," she said. "Sooner or later you'll end up alone with a girl and she'll probably melt down just like me, so you be ready for her. Promise me you'll do that. I've done enough harm as it is; at least learn that from me." "Okay," I said. "I promise." "Good. Now, let's swim back. I want to show you something." ------- What she wanted to show me was a full and complete lesson on breasts and nipples, which I decided were wonderful things. Then she wanted to show me what doggy style was like. After that she showed me what cowgirl style was like, during which she showed me what her orgasm looked like. Twice I almost came, and both times she reached down and pinched me off, saying she wasn't quite finished yet. Eventually she rolled onto her back and put her ankles on my shoulders as I got on her regular style. She showed me how to control her that way, and said she liked feeling slightly helpless. Then she said she wanted me to cum in her again. It was different this time, because I was trying to cum. By that I mean it didn't just happen, and I didn't' lose control. I tried to make myself squirt by stroking inside her. She whispered those things to me again. I didn't understand why they made me feel so crazy, but they did. Then, when I told her I was cumming, she grabbed my face and made me look at her. "I love you, baby," she said, and her eyes were brimming over with tears. I almost lost consciousness from the joy of it. ------- My five day camping trip sort of turned into a three day camping trip. That's because we only did three days worth of hiking and fishing and swimming and all that stuff. The rest of the time we spent in each other's arms, getting hot and sweaty. By the time Saturday morning rolled around and we started to pack things up, I felt like a completely different person than when I came. I know that what happened wasn't really a huge change in anything. I had sex. It happens to everybody, sooner or later, or at least usually does. And the fact that we had a LOT of sex isn't all that momentous. Lots of people have a lot of sex. But there was a change in the way I thought about myself, and that was a pretty big change. A week before I had been a half grown teenager who could work like an adult, or almost like one, anyway. I had been a high school student who hadn't a clue about women. I'd been unsure of a lot of things. Now I was a high school student who could work like an adult, but I also knew I was a man who could satisfy a woman ... a real woman, who knew what she liked, and could have her pick of men. I knew that whatever woman I ended up with would have a good lover, and that there wouldn't be all those awkward, painful false starts that happen to so many teenagers and that risk ruining an otherwise good relationship. I knew I could be patient when I was horny, and I knew how to tell when a woman was horny. In other words, I had received a huge infusion of self confidence. What was spooky was that my mother noticed it right away. All I did was walk into the house with a load of my stuff and she looked at me and said "What on Earth happened to you?" I looked myself over like I might be bleeding or something. "What do you mean?" I asked. "I don't' know," she said. "You just seem different somehow." Of course I couldn't just tell the truth. If I did that she'd have a heart attack and ground me until I was thirty and probably never speak to her sister again. I struck a pose. "I caught lake trout," I said gravely. "It was very difficult. Many people came to watch my expertise and were in awe of my skill." She laughed. "Yeah, right. I'll buy it that you caught a fish or two. At least you don't look starved." That was it for then. But it turned out that that self confidence flowed over into other areas of my life. I wasn't as tentative about things, and if I had an opinion about something I wasn't scared to voice it. And when I went back to school in the fall, for my last year of high school, girls weren't so scary any more. It's not like I suddenly had secret understanding of them, but I recognized when they were flirting with me, and when they weren't. They were much more interesting because I didn't feel so helpless around them any more. Julie May even noticed it. She tried to start fights, but I wouldn't bite. It wasn't that I didn't care what she thought. It's just that I recognized her as a woman at that point. She was my sister, but she was also a woman. And as a woman I just thought of her as being on equal terms to me. Which meant she had a right to think what she wanted to, and make mistakes if she wouldn't listen to good advice and all that. Eventually she quit trying to start fights, and during the school year she even came to me for advice on boys. I knew the party line by then. "Boys just want one thing," I told her. "You'd be better off if you wait until you know you've found a guy you aren't going to break up with." "Yeah, right," she complained. "And get a reputation as an ice queen." "Who cares if that's your rep?" I asked. "In two years you won't even remember most of them. Pay attention to what's good for you, because you have to live with the results of your decisions." I don't know if she took that advice or not. Like most brothers and sisters we never talked about our sex lives. But we had a better relationship after that camping trip. I know you want to know if I ever slept with Aunt Wendy again. Well ... that's also an interesting story. ------- Chapter 4 When I got back from the camping trip, I had changed much. The outside world didn't know anything about that, of course, and the outside world hadn't changed much at all. And, since the normal world expected me to be the same, it treated me just like it would have if that camping trip had never happened. The work was still there, much of it what I would have had to do had I stayed home, and which nobody else had done while I was gone. There was still no time for dating, though I did get to flirt with some girls at the big 4th of July picnic in town. If it hadn't been for Julie May hanging around me like flies hang around raw meat, I might have gotten Cynthia Johnson off in the dark during the fireworks display and tested out Aunt Wendy's hypothesis that no girl could resist me. I wouldn't have had too much fun, though, because of course I didn't have a condom. Still, I couldn't help but wonder if different nipples would taste different in my mouth, if you know what I mean. And it might have been fun to see how a different female reacted to having her clitty rubbed really well. Aunt Wendy had gone back home, of course. She hadn't hung around when we got back, saying she had commitments, waving gaily to my mother and saying she'd be in touch. I think it hurt my mom's feelings that she didn't stay to visit. Of course now I know that she was worried that Mom would see something in one of us, or a look one of us gave the other, and put two and two together. At any rate, she'd only come to visit a couple of times since then. Both times I learned about it after she'd gone again, because I was out working while she was there. So after a while, what had happened between us began to take on a dream-like kind of quality in my mind. Not that I couldn't remember it. Oh no. With the exception of those chaotic first things that happened, it was all crystal clear in my memory. Harvest came and went. Because Gertie had a new motor in her Dad decided to drive her that year, to make sure she got broken in correctly, so I ended up on combine all the time again. But that wasn't so bad, because I could cut wheat in my sleep, and I had lots of time to have fantasies about Aunt Wendy. And - I'll admit it - a few other females I knew. When school started back up I had even less time of my own, but I was used to that. My guidance counselor wanted to know what I'd done about college, and got all upset when I said "Nothing." Apparently you have to apply to colleges way before you're ready to go. I didn't even know what kind of majors there were, much less which one to pick. I was pretty sure I'd grow old driving that stinking Gleaner and die when a length of barbed wire snapped while I was tightening it and flayed me to death or something. In other words, I had no plans. Both Cathy and Rebecca turned up pregnant, and there was great celebration about that. My mother complained bitterly that she was much too young to be a grandmother, but I know she was secretly pleased. She started knitting again. She hadn't knitted since Julie May and I got into fifth or sixth grade, when homemade mittens and such weren't cool. So I knew the new babies would have booties and blankets and who knows what else, all made by a very proud grandma. Christmas was interesting. Christmas was one of the times of the year our family went all out for. I'm not talking about presents. There were a lot of years where the presents were mighty sparse. But there was food and song and merriment out the ass. It was family time. You'd be surprised how on a big farm, even members of a large family don't actually get that much face time with each other. Everybody is off working, and a lot of that work can be done alone. As I was saying, since Christmas was one of the few down times during the year, we took it to heart and family was the central point of attention. Which was why my mother got into a real tizzy when Aunt Wendy called and said she couldn't make Christmas dinner after all. Apparently she was some reticent about why. I happened to be reading a book, sitting in the big overstuffed arm chair that's by the phone. I'd been yelled at, in fact, for not answering it because I was too engrossed in my reading. So when my mother started shouting at Aunt Wendy about how everybody else would be there and why wouldn't she, I could also hear Aunt Wendy's voice shouting back, though I couldn't understand what she said. The upshot was that my mother slammed down the phone and stomped back to the kitchen, where the final touches were being put on that dinner that Aunt Wendy had just turned her nose up at. It wasn't pretty. I knew to keep a low profile, so I just stayed where I was in that chair and continued to read. But it didn't do me any good, as it turned out. That's because within another minute my mother was standing beside that chair looking down at me with thunder still on her face. "Go get your aunt," she said. "I thought she wasn't coming," I said. I know. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "She doesn't think she's coming," my mother said tightly. "But she is coming, because you're going to go get her and bring her here." My dad came in from outside with a load of firewood in his arms. He's got husband radar. He stomped the snow off his feet and said "What's wrong?" Mom turned to him and, in best melodramatic form, wailed. "Wendy said she's too busy to come to Christmas dinner! She's up to something, Bill. Haven't I told you something is going on with her? She hasn't shown neither hide nor hair around here in I don't know how long and every time I invite her over she comes up with some cockamamie reason why she can't. Well I think she's taken up with a man and he's some kind of weirdo or foreign or something. She's hiding something and my little sister is not going to get away with whatever she's trying to get away with! I'm sending Bobby to go get her and bring her back by force if he has to!" "Now hang on, honey," said my father, still holding two armfuls of firewood. "I will not hang on!" she yelled. "I wouldn't even know my own sister was alive if I hadn't just talked to her on the phone!" She turned back to me. "Now you go on and get her, Bobby. If you have to put her over your shoulder and bring her that way then fine!" She frowned. "And whatever man is with her is to come too. I don't care who he is. He's invited to Christmas dinner too." I sat there. I looked at Dad. "Don't you look at your father like that, young man!" she snapped. "I told you to go get your aunt. Now move!" I jumped up, and glanced at Dad who tossed his head toward the door. He looked pretty grim. I decided getting out of the house might be a good idea just about then. My dad could deal with my mom. Besides ... I liked driving in the snow. It was exciting. ------- I knew where Aunt Wendy's house was, of course. She'd bought it right after she got back from Kuwait. It had belonged to old man Toliver, whose father had started the first hardware store in town, way back when they were still fighting Indians, if you believed what he claimed. He was over a hundred when he died, and he left this big old house to his grandson or somebody, who promptly put it on the market. It was on almost an acre of land, about a block north of the city park, which used to be the town square. I'd never been inside the house, and I was curious about what it would look like as I pulled into the driveway that went beside the north wall. I could see a carriage house another hundred or so feet down the driveway. There were bushes all over the place, but they were bare in the winter. Her car was parked further up the driveway, and I could see footprints in the snow leading from it to the back of the house, so I went there and found a rear door that it appeared she used routinely, instead of going in the front. There was a three step stoop with a handrail that had been cleared of snow. I went up and knocked. The back door had a square light in the upper half, covered by curtains on the inside. They pulled apart and there she was, peering out at me through frosty glass. I grinned. I know that sounds simple, but it was a very complicated grin. That's because part of it was from sudden, almost insane joy at seeing her face again. All manner of things rushed back into my mind as I saw her lips and nose and eyes. But I was also scared. Well, maybe not scared, exactly, but nervous, because I knew there was tension between her and Mom, and because I knew she might resist coming back with me, so part of that grin was just tension, and me trying to set the right mood. Like an idiot I held up my gloved right hand and moved it back and forth rapidly from side to side. "Hi!" I said in what I hoped was an irresistibly cheery voice. "What are you doing here?" she yelled through the glass. "Can I come in?" "No, Bobby. Go away." The first thing I thought about was what Mom had said about Aunt Wendy taking up with a man. I knew what that meant, and it went far beyond Aunt Wendy simply going on dates, even a lot of dates, with a single man. When it came out of my mother's mouth in that tone of voice, it meant that she suspected Wendy was living in sin. And Aunt Wendy would be just as embarrassed about me finding out about that as she would if her sister did. I turned to look back at her car. There was only one size of footprints between it and where I was standing, not counting the ones I'd just made. And there was no other car, unless it was in the carriage house, which wasn't likely, since it had snow drifted up all along the bottom of the door and there were no tracks leading to it. I turned back to my aunt. "Mom sent me to get you," I said. I had no idea a woman could cuss like that. She was ranting so much that I just reached out and tried the knob. It was unlocked, so I just opened the door. When I tried to push it open it bumped into her and she squawked. "Bobby no!" she yelled. "You can't come in here -" I started to say "It's cold outside. Can't you cuss with me being here in the warm?" I had it in mind to be my irresistible self and overcome her resistance. But I didn't say that. Instead I said "It's... Wow!" That's because when Aunt Wendy stepped back, she looked like she'd swallowed a basketball. She was wearing sweat pants, socks and that same Mickey Mouse Club T shirt she'd put on right after I spunked her tank top, that first time she sucked me off. On either side of Mickey's grinning face was a bump that I knew was a distended nipple. She was pregnant. Oh man, was she pregnant. Obviously, my mother was right. She had taken up with a man and was living in sin. I looked at her left hand, just in case, but I knew I wouldn't see anything there. There was no way in the world Aunt Wendy would have gotten married and kept that a secret, or not invited my mother to the wedding. She was crying now, blubbering with shame. "Hey, it's okay," I said. I wanted to hug her, but she had her hands up, palms facing me. It was obvious she didn't want me to touch her. I tried to think of something to say, but all I could do was stare at that bulging T shirt. Her hair was hanging down straight, and she didn't have any makeup on, but I'd seen her like that before, and those memories were some of my favorite ones. I thought she was beautiful. And, oddly, I thought she was even more beautiful like this. I say oddly because while I'd seen the occasional pregnant woman, I hadn't paid any real attention to her. I'd never really looked at a pregnant woman. That swelling seemed to flow from the breasts. Hers had gotten larger. I'd have bet money on it. I remembered those breasts with crystal clarity too. Before she'd been hour-glass shaped, and her abdomen had been so flat it was almost concave. I remembered tracing her ribs with my finger while we lay naked. Now everything was reversed. It was like most of her curves had shifted to make that bulge. Her hands dropped as she slumped. "Oh Bobby," she sobbed. I hugged her then. She stiffened as I gathered her into my arms, but then relaxed almost immediately. She shook and I ran my hands up and down her back and kissed her hair and muttered over and over that it was all right. It wasn't, of course. That was obvious. But it was all I could think of to say. It felt crazy weird to feel that bulge pressing against my belt buckle and I tried not to hug her too tight so that the buckle wouldn't hurt anything. I was afraid she was going to cry for hours and I was starting to get worried. I tried to think of something to say, but all I could think of was "How did this happen?" which was a patently stupid question. Finally I opted for something off the subject. "You got anything to drink? I'm dying of thirst." I know, I know. It was lame and stupid. But it worked. She started to sound like an eight cylinder motor running on maybe five cylinders, and the sobs got interrupted by snorts. She shook like it was thirty below zero and there were some honking noises mixed in there too. Her face came up and her eyes were all shiny. There was snot running out of her nose from one of those snorts. It dripped onto her lip as I watched and she felt it. A look of horror came over her face and she wiped at her nose and mouth with the back of one hand. More noises, amongst them something that sounded a little bit like "Ewwww" except there were words mixed with it that weren't for use in polite company. "Boy, you cuss better than anybody I ever heard," I said. I was still off balance. She pushed me - thankfully with the non-snotty hand - and ran for the sink. I looked around and realized I was at the back of a big kitchen. It had a tiled floor, in a checkboard pattern of black and white, with tiles that were about a foot square. She was obviously in the middle of renovating things. There was a brand new stainless steel refrigerator, but the stove looked ancient. A dishwasher that matched the fridge was tucked into a hole under the counter and I could see the raw edges of wood where some drawers had been cut out to make room for it. The table was a sheet of thick glass supported by a fancy black wrought iron frame that curled somehow into four legs. It was beautiful. Somebody with a really poor sense of humor had painted all the cabinets one time, a kind of pea green that was faded and dreary. My eyes fell to her rear end, which was prominently displayed as she bent over a stainless steel sink that went with the fridge and dishwasher, and washed her face. I remembered that ass too. Pain made me realize that I had a bar of iron in my jeans. She reached for a towel, rubbed her face much longer than necessary, and turned around to lean against the edge of the sink. She had recovered enough that she wasn't crying any more. She put a hand on the counter on either side of her and looked at me. Then her eyes darted away and I could tell it took some effort to bring them back to me. "You weren't supposed to see this," she said. I looked around. "It will look nice when it's finished," I said. Her jaw dropped and she looked at me like I was crazy. I wondered what I'd said that was so stupid, and looked around again. She snorted and I couldn't help but look to see if she'd had another accident. She hadn't. She was shaking her head. She mumbled something under her breath that sounded something like "I'd almost forgotten." Her hands came off the counter and cupped her bulging belly. "I meant this," she said. "Oh." I didn't know what else to say. "Now you know why I couldn't come to Christmas dinner." That didn't make any sense to me at all. "Why not?" I asked. "You're just pregnant." She looked at me like I was crazy again. "I'm just pregnant? Don't you think that's a little odd?" I hated it when adults asked questions like that. Obviously she wanted me to agree that it was odd that she was pregnant. But it wasn't. Was it? I mean women got pregnant all the time ... right? "Women get pregnant all the time," I tried. "I'm not married, you idiot!" she snapped. She didn't sound really angry at me, though. "I know that," I said, trying to sound injured. In a situation like this you want adults to think they hurt your feelings if at all possible. It takes some of the heat off of you. "Mom thinks you have a boyfriend, and that's why you don't want to come to dinner. I'm supposed to invite him too." I looked around again like I might see this mysterious boyfriend someplace. "Great," said Aunt Wendy. She didn't sound like she thought it was great at all. I had a sudden thought. "Does Mom know about that?" I pointed at her belly. Then I realized how idiotic that sounded. If my mother had known about it I would have known about it. "Of course not," we both said at the same time. That got a little smile, and I felt almost overwhelmed with relief that she could still do that. "Look," I said, trying to use some of that self confidence this woman had imbued me with. "So you're pregnant. It's no big deal. Like I said, it happens all the time. And so what if you're not married. It's really none of her business. I'm sure she'll be happy to meet your boyfriend and she'll get over the fact that you're not married." She looked at me like I was nuts again. "I don't have a boyfriend, Bobby! It was an accident, just like me. It wasn't supposed to happen!" She said it like I should already know that. But I was heavily into fixing things between my aunt and mother. It was suddenly important to do. I couldn't take it if Aunt Wendy cried like that very often. It made me want to cry too! "Okay, so what? There are lots of single mothers these days. It's still none of her business. I know she'll rag on you for a while, but I still think she'll get over it. She loves you. She couldn't stand the idea of you not being there for Christmas dinner. Just come with me. We'll get it over with, and have dinner and by this afternoon everything will be all right." She looked at me strangely, and then suddenly smiled. Man, how I loved it when she smiled at me like that. I thought I'd won her over. "I'm six months pregnant, Bobby," she said. "I was trying to stay out of sight long enough to have the baby, and then tell your folks that I adopted him." I smiled. "You really thought you could stay away for nine months and nobody would ask any questions?" "I hoped I could," she said. "But it's not that bad!" I said. "I mean yes, she'll be scandalized for a while, but she'll get over it. It's too bad things didn't work out between you and the guy. I mean she'd have still been scandalized if you brought him, but she'd get over that too. And you could fib just a little and say you were engaged or something. I mean that would have been nice, but you can't hide out. You're part of the family. Your baby will be part of the family too. And if she gets uppity, just tell her to shut her pie hole or you'll leave. That will do it, trust me. Just come back with me. I'll make sure things go okay. I promise." She walked up to me and put her hands on my shoulders. That bulging belly touched me lightly. Her eyes had that misty look in them again. "You would try," she said softly. "Bobby, honey, there is no boyfriend because there has never been a boyfriend. Not since I got back from Kuwait." I blinked. "But you're pregnant." She smiled a tired smile. "Only one man has made love to me in the last year." "What?" I was confused. That didn't make any sense at all. I mean she had to have had sex for something like this to happen. I might be slow, but I'm not stupid. The next thing I remember is her kneeling beside me. I was sitting on the floor and her face was at the end of another one of those tunnels. It shortened quickly and I heard her saying "Breathe, Bobby, breathe!" "Abba ... abba ... baabba," I babbled. "Big, deep breath, honey," she said. I did that, and she said "Good, now another one." I did that and stood back up. Apparently my legs had just gone rubbery but I sat down instead of falling. Nothing hurt. Reality rushed in, but it wasn't as overwhelming as I thought it should be. I turned to face her. I looked down. I saw my hands go to each side of that bulge. "Baby," I said. I looked up into her face, which looked scared. "My baby?" She frowned. "Of course he's your baby, you brick-headed boy!" I was a little miffed at being reduced to being a boy again, but I had more important things on my mind just then. I looked back at her stomach. "My baby," I sighed. "I can't believe it. Wow." I looked back up into her face. "This is so cool!" I bubbled. She looked shocked, but it didn't last very long. That look was replaced by something that looked scared, tinged with hopefulness. "Really?" "What do you mean, really? Of course it is! I mean that's my baby in there! Our baby! I mean you're gonna have a baby and ... did you say he? It's a boy? How do you know? We're gonna have a son? This is awesome!" "Calm down," she said. That scared look was gone and there was the beginnings of another smile on her face. "You're going to hyperventilate. Take a breath." "Is that all you ever say to me? Take a breath? We're going to have a baby!" I yelled the last word and she winced. That wince led to another thought and I stopped, frozen for a few seconds. "Mom is going to kill me!" I gasped. "I'll be grounded for years!" Suddenly one of her fingers was pressed against my lips. Her other hand came up and made me look down, into her big eyes. "I think it might be better if your mother doesn't know who the father is," she said. I felt a mixture of betrayal, anger and relief. I'm ashamed that the relief won out. It was my baby. And even though practically everybody on the planet would be disgusted about that if they knew, I wasn't. I loved her. And I already loved the baby. I felt it pressing up against me again. Her face was right there ... so I kissed her. That was a good kiss. It was different, somehow, from any other kiss we had shared. It was even more personal than the kisses we traded while we were making love. I can't explain it, but it was a kiss that healed many things, some of which we didn't even know were broken at the time. She told me later that that particular kiss was when her feeling of awful, crushing alone-ness disappeared. ------- The next forty-five minutes went by as if each minute was only a second long. She had been afraid I wouldn't take the news well. She also didn't want to complicate my life. She had avoided relationships while she was in Kuwait, because she didn't want to deal with the cultural problems involved. So, when she got back, she started thinking about dating, but didn't start taking the pill again until shortly before our camping trip. She hadn't planned on what happened between us, but had thought she was safe. The combination of thinking she was safe, having gone without a man's attention for more than two years, and her attraction to me had resulted in something completely unexpected and beyond her emotional control. That forty-five minutes wasn't completely filled with words, though. There were a bunch of kisses in there, and I felt up her belly about a dozen times. I wanted to see the bare stomach and instead of pulling her shirt up she took it off. Then she apologized for teasing me and put it back on. That was a good thing because the phone rang just then. I looked at my watch and realized what I thought was a few minutes was a lot longer. "That's Mom," I said. "If you don't answer it and tell her you're coming she'll send Dad after both of us." She picked up the phone, listened for about ten seconds and then yelled "Stop!" Apparently my mother (I'm positive that's who it was, even though nobody ever confirmed that for me) stopped and Aunt Wendy said "We're just leaving. Remember, Candy ... you made me come!" Then she slammed the phone down. She turned to me. "You can't go home looking like that. Somebody will notice." She was staring at the front of my jeans, which were bulging painfully. So she took the time to give me a blow job. I was out of practice. I think it might have taken her a whole minute before I blew. ------- Aunt Wendy informed me that she was riding with me instead of driving her own car. She said that was for two reasons. She was going to complain that I physically forced her into the car. She actually made me order her to get in and push her so she wouldn't be lying. But the primary reason was something much more sly. "This way you'll have to bring me back home tonight. You got your jollies a few minutes ago, but I'm still horny. You're going to fix that when you bring me back home." "Can we do that with you ... like that?" I asked. "We're sure as hell going to try," she growled. ------- It was an interesting ride. I couldn't help but look over at her constantly. "You want to keep your eyes on the road?" It became something she probably said two dozen times. Finally she tried joking around with me to break the sexual tension. "I'm not going to flash my boobs at you again. So if that's what you're hoping for you're out of luck, buster." "I just can't believe it. I've missed you so much and I didn't even know it." "Thanks a lot!" she pouted. "I didn't mean it that way," I said. "I just never got to see you very much and when I did I couldn't say anything and I think maybe I put it out of my mind or something." "I missed you every day," she sighed. "Really?" I felt on top of the world about then. "Especially when I missed my second period and finally got up the courage to get a home pregnancy test. I must have cried for two hours straight when I read it." That sobered me. I had expressed all manner of joy that she was pregnant with my baby. I tried to remember anything approaching joy on her part. I couldn't. She'd said she was going to pretend to adopt it, but that was it. "So you're sorry?" I tried to make it light, like it was okay with me if she was sorry I knocked her up. "That's a complicated question, Bobby," she said. She turned sideways in the seat to face me. She was silent for half a minute before she spoke again. "If you weren't my nephew, and you were a couple of years older, I'd have been ecstatic. I've always wanted children. I just didn't know when it would happen. And events conspired to put me in circumstances where I didn't meet the kind of man I wanted to be a wife to." She frowned, like she was thinking, and then spoke again. "Have you ever wished you could hold your very own hundred dollar bill in your hand?" "Yeah," I said. What that had to do with anything I didn't know. "But you don't know when that will happen," she explained. "You just hope it does some day. It was like that with me about a man, and having babies." "I get that," I said. "Like I assume I'll get married some day, but I have no idea how I'll get there." "Exactly," she said. "If I could marry you I would. I fell in love with you on that stupid camping trip, and I'm still in love with you, and that's all wrong because you are my nephew and I'm old enough to be your mother." "You are not," I scoffed. "You're only old enough to be his mother." I reached to pat our child. "I'm twenty-five, Bobby," she insisted. "Which means if you were my mother you'd have had me when you were nine," I said. "It doesn't matter how old I am," she said. "Nobody is going to let us be a couple. That's just the way things are." "You know what I think?" I asked. "I'm not sure I want to know what you think," she said, but she smiled. "I think that if somebody would have told me in April, that within a couple of months my Aunt would seduce me and make wild, crazy passionate love to me for days in a row, I'd have told him he was nuts. I would have said there was no way in hell that could happen. Zero, zilch, zip." "That was different," she said. "That was just one week. I'm talking about the rest of our lives, Bobby." "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't just assume something is impossible." "Besides," she said. "You've probably already met some lucky girl and rung her bell like you rang mine." "Nope," I said. "Well you will." "Maybe. Maybe not." "We'll have to talk about this later. Right now we have to get ready to keep your parents from finding out who the father of this baby is. If your mother sees the way you look at me, she's going to know. If she sees the way I look at you she'll probably know too." "So are you saying we shouldn't look at each other?" "I'm saying that we're going to have to be very careful, Bobby. I don't care if she yells at me for being a slut and getting knocked up. You're right. Eventually she'll get used to the idea. But I couldn't stand it if I ruined your relationship with your parents." "Anybody calls you a slut is going to have to deal with me," I said, trying to sound dangerous. "If anybody calls me a slut you just sit there and keep your mouth shut, young man!" she ordered. "I want to have this baby, and I want this baby to be able to know his father, even if he can't call him Daddy. Don't you do anything to get us torn apart. If you can't stand it, then just go to your room or something. Promise me you won't get us caught, Bobby. Please." "I promise, I promise," I said lightly. "Don't worry. I'm a teenager. I know how to game my parents." "I hope that's not true," she sighed. "Maybe it would be better if we just never look at each other." I laughed. "Like that's going to happen." I stopped the car because we had arrived. We got out and stood in the snow. We stood there looking at each other. She shivered. Suddenly she gave me a quick peck on the lips and said "Let's get this over with." I went in first, thinking about the idea I hadn't told her I had. ------- Chapter 5 My mother was on a high rampage, talking about how it was about time, and how the food had gotten cold, and how she couldn't believe how certain inconsiderate people could be so selfish as to hold things up for everybody else. Then Aunt Wendy actually walked into the room, and everybody at the table saw her. She'd already taken off her coat, and there was nothing covering her to soften the blow, as it were. "Sorry we're late," she said, as if nothing was wrong. "I couldn't decide what to wear." She was wearing exactly what she'd been wearing when I got to her house, except that she'd put on a bra. She'd also combed her hair and put on a little makeup too. It was silent as a tomb. Well, a tomb inhabited by zombies, maybe, since my mother was making zombie noises ... gurgles mostly. "Wow," said my sister. Her eyes were about as wide as the plate in front of her. Cathy and Rebecca, both in similar condition, though not as far along, looked startled. I thought it was interesting that both Chet and Ralph blushed. My dad looked very stern, but he was the first one to speak more than one word. "If you two will sit down we'll say grace and get this show on the road." ------- I didn't need to worry about anybody looking at me and detecting how I felt about Aunt Wendy for at least fifteen minutes. All attention was on her. Everybody there wanted to ask questions, but being polite was a pillar of culture in our family. There was an extended strained silence as Dad dished out turkey and bowls were passed. I had plenty of time to work out my plan. Now all I needed was an opening. Finally Wendy just started talking to her sister like they were alone. She confessed to making stupid decisions that went badly, and that she was so ashamed that she couldn't face the family. She even confessed to the cockamamie plan to have the baby and say she adopted it, and how that was going all right until I showed up at her back door. That brought eyes to me for some reason. "Why didn't you call me and give me some warning?" my mother accused, looking dead at me. "Because Aunt Wendy said she knew at least five ways to kill me slowly if I said a word to anybody until we got here," I said. "That was after she cold cocked me, so I was pretty sure she was telling the truth." "She HIT you?" my mother yelped. She started to get angry. My aunt was looking at me like I was crazy. "I kind of messed up and called her a slut," I said, doing my best to look ashamed. "You what?" my mother yelped again. Dad was starting to look worried. Julie May didn't show it on her face, but I was absolutely sure she was having the time of her life watching me dig the hole I was apparently falling into. I didn't have time to look at my older brothers or their wives, so I don't know what was going on there. "It just kind of slipped out," I complained. "I mean I asked her when she got married and how come we didn't get invited to the wedding and she said she didn't get married and I said 'So you're just a slut' and she knocked me down and I apologized. She's not mad at me any more, so you shouldn't be mad either." I stopped to take a breath. My mother was getting redder and redder, so I know she'd bought it. I glanced at my dad, who was looking at me with his eyes narrowed and a small frown. He was a sharp cookie and I didn't think he was convinced things had happened quite that way. Maybe it was the look on my face, but he didn't say anything. Of course Mom filled that gap. "Robert William Martin!" she screeched. "What on Earth made you think you could talk to an adult like that? To anyone like that? I've taught you better than that, young man! You will apologize to your aunt this instant!" "I did aplogize to her!" I complained. "I told you, she's not mad at me any more." "Well you apologize again, and then you are banished from this table! I will not have a son of mine saying such cruel and horrible things!" I looked at my aunt, and said, "Aunt Wendy, I'm very sorry for calling you a slut. I was rude and uncouth. I promise it will never happen again." The look on her face was priceless. This had taken her completely by surprise, and it showed. But she wasn't stupid, and she knew I was up to something, so there was a hint of a smile in there too. But she was also worried because my mother was hopping mad and had sent me to my room. I stood up to leave. God bless my dad, who saved the day. "Now Candy," he said. He and Aunt Wendy were the only people in the world who could call my mother "Candy." Her name was Candace and she politely informed anyone who shortened it, or changed it in any other way, that her name was Candace. So I knew when he called her that, that he was on my side. He proved that when he went on. "The boy probably heard that kind of trash talk at school, and you know how teenage boys will let their mouths run sometimes. He's apologized twice now and I don't think making him miss Christmas dinner will create any additional forgiveness." He looked at Aunt Wendy. "Am I right Wendy?" She nodded. "I shouldn't have struck him. I know he's not usually like that. He was shocked. I felt horrible about the whole thing, and I know he was sorry." Apparently she decided that if I could make things up along the way, she could too. "He almost cried, poor boy." Julie May snickered and her parents and three older brothers all turned their heads to glare at her. She tried to shrink down into her chair. But the next thing Aunt Wendy said took the attention off of her. "Besides," she said sadly. "It's true, after all. I'm going to have a baby out of wedlock, and that makes me a slut." Obviously she had tumbled to my idea, which was a preemptive strike on the whole slut issue. "You are no such thing!" wailed my mother. She got up and went to her sister for the first time since she had arrived. "You're my baby sister and I love you, no matter what!" Then there was this big hugging thing, and they were both crying like girls do and the tension evaporated and Dad started eating again. Just about everybody at the table was happy, with the possible exception of Julie May, who I am sure would have loved it if I'd have stayed in deep trouble. And, what with the spirit of the season gripping all of us after that, it was all rosy cheeks and smiles and heartfelt emotions, which was really good, seeing as how Aunt Wendy and I were just flat incapable of not looking at each other for five or six hours. But because of all the Christmas cheer, nobody noticed the looks we gave each other. Finally Aunt Wendy said she was tired and needed to go home. Mom agreed with her. She'd spent quite a bit of her time that afternoon giving her baby sister instructions and wisdom about pregnancy and taking care of herself and on and on and on. "I'll drive you home," I said. "It's the least I can do." I didn't say it, but everyone knew I was talking about my earlier horrible social gaffe. "I accept your offer," she said formally, and then ignored me while she got her coat on and said her goodbyes. I had the car started and warming up when she finally opened the door, waved one last time to her adoring sister, and got in the car. "You are insane," she said. "What if everybody in the house would have taken your side?" "I knew they wouldn't" I said carelessly. "I know them. I don't think anybody in this family is going to contemplate calling you a slut any time soon." "It was brilliant," she sighed. "Stupid ... crazy ... insane ... but brilliant. Thank you." "I know how you can thank me," I said, with a leer in my voice. "Speaking of which, your mother said I should make you do some work at my house as penance for your awful accusation. You're supposed to move the furniture around and help me set up the nursery. I'm too delicate for that kind of hard labor now." She giggled. "Starting tonight?" I asked hopefully. "Starting tonight," she confirmed. ------- My dad has a saying: "All generalizations are bad, including this one." So I know there may be some who disagree with me, but for my money there is nothing as overwhelmingly sexy as lying under a pregnant woman ... who you made pregnant ... while she rocks, impaled on your stiffened prod, and makes those noises that convince you she'd rather be doing this with you than any other man in the world. As I had slowly discovered her body on the camping trip, I got to do that all over again now. And she was completely different ... as unknown as she had been back then. Her breasts were different, her posture was different. Even her pussy was different. And of course the bulge that contained our growing child was different. Had our relationship been a normal one, where I was with her all the time as her belly swelled, I'm sure it would have been different. Her breasts had, indeed, gotten larger, and both her areolas and nipples were almost black now. Her areolas had widened as her breasts grew. It was like sucking on completely different nipples, except the woman was the same. And while she rocked, our baby was right there between us, within reach of both his mother and father. Either she or I was caressing that bulge all the time, and the baby joined in by becoming very active while we made love. For as horny as she was, it was a very languid session at first. We could barely kiss, and I had to strain upwards to curve around the baby, but every kiss was worth it. The only problem was that after this, I'd never be satisfied with not being able to do it again. After the camping trip I'd managed to convince myself that it had been a one week fling, enjoyable for both of us, but just one of those stories I'd recall fondly in my old age. Now that kind of thinking was impossible. And just so you know I'm not a complete horn dog, I did move some furniture. She'd been too depressed to go shopping for nursery items. When we got done she said that was the first thing she was going to do the next day. ------- Aunt Wendy spent a lot more time at our place after Christmas. The shock of her condition (and apparent lifestyle) was over, and now she was simply pregnant Aunt Wendy. There were still months to go before the baby arrived, and everyone got used to the idea that there would be a baby, and that it was just fine that there would be a baby. In fact, since both Cathy and Rebecca were pregnant too, and just beginning to show, having pregnant women around the house became routine. Finding time to spend together, though, depended to a great degree on how convincing Wendy could be as to her need for a strong back for a few hours. I mean you could only move the furniture around so many times before that excuse was used up. And once the nursery was painted, and there was no longer any need for someone else to climb the ladder, she couldn't ask me to do that any more. As she got bigger and bigger her needs became more difficult to meet. She could reach an orgasm when riding me, but sometimes it was uncomfortable for her that way. Doggy style was the most comfortable for her, but she couldn't reach her clitty to rub it while I slicked in and out of her pussy. I could reach around her to do that, but it made me almost lie on her back. That was all right for a while, but not too long. She loved it when I spent an hour licking and sucking her pussy, but she wanted something in that pussy too. I'll never forget being embarrassed almost to death when she showed me the dildo she planned on using while I ate her pussy. She taught me how to use that dildo on her, though, so my embarrassment disappeared. It was when her due date was only twenty-seven days away, and my graduation from high school was only two months beyond that, that Aunt Wendy did something that was even crazier and more dangerous than my calling-her-a-slut story had been. It happened one night in February when she was eating supper with us. Apparently being eight months pregnant can be uncomfortable, because she was kind of pale and making pitiful sounds. Getting up off the couch took help, because the couch was too soft or something. So Mom suggested that, since we had a spare bedroom, Wendy should come stay with us until she went into labor. That way she'd always have help if she needed it. "Besides, who is going to take you to the hospital when you go into labor?" asked Mom. "I'll think about it," said Wendy. "But right now I'd like to talk about something else." She then commenced to tell us that part of what she'd done in Kuwait was help procure and install wind and solar generating systems in remote locations where there were no electric lines. She was sketchy about what kind of places this technology went into. She made it sound like this and that camel farmer got these systems, but that didn't make any sense. At any rate, she said that such systems could be used on farms just like ours, and that if designed and installed correctly, could actually result in sale of electricity to the grid. Not only could we save all the money now going to the electric utility, we could make some money selling energy to them. "How much?" asked my dad, who usually cut right to the chase in situations like this. "Between twenty and forty grand, depending on the mix of solar and wind," she said. "But that would make you energy independent, in terms of electricity." You might think that's insane; to pay forty thousand dollars just so you can save a few hundred each month on electricity. But my father's reaction was "Hmmmmm. Have to run the numbers." Of course I wasn't thinking about the fact that the modern farmer may take out a loan for a new tractor that's more than the amount of his home mortgage. Figures like $200,000.00 get thrown around all the time by farmers these days. And an electric grain dryer running non stop for a month will use as much electricity as two or three normal families use in a whole year. Then there are house lights, outbuilding lights, compressors, space heaters, fans, welders, yard and security lighting, and a dozen other things I can't think of right now. So an electric bill over three hundred dollars a month was no stranger to my mother, who paid the bills. So under the right circumstances, making a payment on a loan for the installation of green technology wouldn't cost any more, really, than paying the electric bill itself. Then, in ten or fifteen years, you ended up with a net income, because that money was freed up after that. But that wasn't what was dangerous about her plan. What was dangerous about her plan was what she added to the mix after my dad said he'd think about it. "I'm pretty sure I can make a go of it," she said. "I have the startup money, and the expertise for current systems. But I won't be able to do it by myself, and I'm going to need a partner who has a formal education in engineering, with emphasis on green technology." "So you hire somebody," my dad said. "I have enough for startup," she said. "But I won't be able to pay somebody with the kind of education I need. Not until the business is up and running and I have a track record. The track record will sell the systems, but I'll still have to be able to keep up with new developments. I need a partner, not an employee. The employees will come later, after the business is established." "So what are you going to do?" asked my mother. "I'd like to suggest that I send Bobby to college to become my engineer, in exchange for half ownership in the company." You could have heard a pin drop on the carpet under the table for the next half minute. ------- Of course it didn't stay quiet. But in the ensuing hour of babble I never got a word in edgewise, even though it was my future they were all talking about. My dad knew a fair bit about engineering, and knew it was a five year program, and would cost a lot of money. I did all right in school, but it wasn't likely I'd be bringing in a ton of scholarships. Wendy said that was all part of her startup plan. She wasn't in a hurry. Delbert Marker, who owned the grain elevator in town had approached her, asking questions, which was how she got the idea for the business in the first place. His circumstances called for solar only, and she was in the process of designing an installation for him with off the shelf technology. I'd cut my teeth on that over the coming summer. Then the first non-commercial system would be installed at our farm, during the summer after my first year in college. With stats from the grain elevator and our farm, by the time I graduated from college, there would be enough data to help people like my father "run the numbers." Then there were the inevitable questions about how all this might affect the farm. Not the free electricity, but about me being gone. It was suggested that I might be available to help out at harvest, and other times where there might be a crunch. That request ... and subsequent offer ... was open-ended, suggesting that I might still be driving the combine when I was in my fifties. Though she'd never said a single word to me about it, Wendy had obviously spent a lot of time thinking about this "suggestion." It wasn't until the adults had hashed everything out that somebody remembered I was there, and thought to ask me what I thought. It was then that the genius of her plan came to fruition. I was still a little overwhelmed by the idea that I might be able to spend time ... a lot of time ... with the woman I loved ... and our child ... doing something that sounded interesting. But I'd never thought about becoming an engineer. It was a big gray misty area in my understanding, and Wendy knew me well enough to know how I'd react to this whole idea. "I don't know," I said. "I mean I never thought about going to college. Not really." My mother stiffened in response to what she probably thought of as my typical lack of foresight and ambition. "Of course you're going to college," she snapped. "This is an amazing opportunity for you, Bobby. I can't believe you don't see that." And I went into instant defense mode. "I didn't say I don't want to do it. I just said I never thought about it. I mean what if I'm no good at this stuff?" That got my dad going, and the next thing I knew there were three adults all trying to talk me into becoming my Aunt Wendy's partner and spending the rest of my life working side by side with her to make the world safe for future generations and on and on and on. I shot my aunt a few looks. She grinned at me twice and winked once. Finally I agreed, amazed that, an hour and a half previous to this I was down in the dumps because Aunt Wendy was going to go home after supper and I had no idea when I'd get to see her again. Now it was a given that I was going to have to spend as much time with her as possible until I went to college, so I could learn what she knew and get some hands on experience installing the grain elevator solar system in the summer. I almost choked when Aunt Wendy said "There's no big hurry. You can wait until tomorrow to come over after school and I'll give you the free tour of things windy and solar." I swear she said "Wendy" instead of "windy" but nobody else caught it. It being February, there wasn't much to do on the farm other than maintenance, and my dad and brothers had that well in hand. I think they played cards in the barn sometimes, but never caught them at it. But I had my excuse to go see my lover after school the next day, and that's all I cared about. ------- It turned out it wasn't an excuse. She was completely serious about the whole thing. And that was the real genius of her plan. She did intend to run a business, and she did intend for me to be an integral part of it. And once I got the real gist of things, my imagination caught fire and I couldn't wait to get out of high school so I could start my summer job and then go to college. Until we were making love. Then I realized I was going to college, where Wendy would not be. And for five years! She reminded me that I'd be home each summer, as an intern with the new company, called Blown Away Energy Systems. And then, the synergy of the moment, consisting of sadness that I was going away, tempered by the joy of lying there together, resulted in something that seemed like a good omen. I was playfully nursing at one of her thick, almost black nipples and her milk came in. It scared us both at first, because there was some pain for her and she yelped. About the same time I got a shot of warm something, and of course the first thing I thought of was blood. As she realized what had happened, she shuddered and the pain went away, and about that time I tasted something sweet. I took a chance and swallowed, and then pulled my mouth off to see thin jets of white squirting at odd angles from the nipple. I didn't waste any, and we found something else we both loved. ------- And so that summer I lived with Aunt Wendy, who had an office in her house, and a baby boy who my mother said was as fussy as I was. I was really glad I wasn't drinking anything when she said that. I'd have blown it all over the table. And no, I wasn't there in the delivery room. My mom was, but that was fine, because she was so excited to be able to coach her baby sister. I already knew the baby would be named Jeremiah, after Mom and Wendy's paternal grandfather. Wendy suggested that the middle name could be in honor of their maternal grandfather, which just happened to be the same name as her husband. My mother scoffed at that because I'd been named after them already. Wendy said she didn't care about that, acting like she really didn't, and somehow they agreed that would be a good middle name. So, at least partly, my son's mother even figured out how to give him my name. There was some minor panic when Mom took me to the college to apply in person, seeing as how the time for sending in applications had passed. The woman who handled my "case" said there wasn't enough time to deal with all the paperwork, and that I'd have to wait a year. MY SAT scores were fine, but there just wasn't enough time. Until my mother mentioned we were going to be paying cash. Then, like magic there was an opening in the electrical engineering program, and I got enrolled and assigned a dorm and everything. Seems all the paperwork that took so long was the financial aid paperwork. As the time for packing up and going off to State got closer and closer, Wendy got more and more emotional. She'd gone back on the pill after Jeremiah was born. And while I was allegedly using a spare bedroom in her house, so we could get up and go to work together on the grain elevator installation, I slept in her bed. One night about two weeks before I was to leave, she got extra passionate while I was on top of her. She liked to be made helpless once in a while, and one of my favorite ways was to get my knees partially under her butt and reach under her back to grip her shoulders. It gave me the deepest penetration (if she cooperated by spreading her legs wide) and she couldn't get away from full penetration unless I let go of her. It also gave me the grip needed to fuck her fast and hard, so much so that I could only go that way for maybe a couple of minutes before I was exhausted. But she loved that, once in a while, and that night she was in the mood for it. Her mouth was right by my ear as I pounded her and she was grunting and panting. "Give me another baby, Bobby. Come on, baby, shoot in me and knock me up again." She knew that made me crazy, and within a minute I was rigid, holding her onto my spurting cock while I wished I could shoot in her for ten minutes. Afterwards, as we lay catching our breath under the ceiling fan, I asked her about it. "You're still on the pill, right?" "Yes," she said. She sounded a little disappointed. "So what was all that 'knock me up' stuff about?" "I wish you could, that's all." "Really?" I felt ten feet tall. "I have a confession to make," she said, instead of answering my question. "What's that?" "I wasn't on the pill when I took you camping." "Oh really." At that point I knew that she loved me, and that I loved her, and that we had done the best we could to set things up so that our love could continue. It sounded like she'd understand if I got upset, but the primary thing in my head was curiosity as to why she'd done things the way she had. However that was. I guess I trusted her. "I didn't intend to seduce you. But I did fall in love with you. It was so sudden and so complete that I thought I was crazy. And then, the way you looked at me made me so hot. You were so honest and open. You didn't play games or try to impress me. And when I realized I couldn't resist you ... couldn't resist having you ... I knew it was insane, because I knew I was too close to the wrong time of the month to do that with a man. And I tried very hard to resist letting you in me, but it was like my body demanded it or something. I'd never felt that way about a man before, and it was happening so fast that when the time came, I wanted to get pregnant. I kept telling myself it wouldn't happen, but it felt so good to try, and your reaction fed my own. "So that pregnancy test was no surprise," I said softly. "Actually, it was." She sighed. "I think that by then I'd talked myself into believing nothing would happen. And when it did I felt awful - not because I had your baby in me. That part I couldn't hate. But I felt awful for you. I had stolen your virginity, and then I was pregnant with your child, and I knew there was no way you could celebrate that. I was ashamed. I felt like a thief ... a rapist." "A slut," I said. Her reaction was both rapid and violent. I wasn't ticklish, so instead she bounced up on her hands and knees and captured my penis, sucking it in and biting down on the soft flesh. She didn't have to threaten me any more than that. "I'm sorry!" I wheedled. "I didn't mean it. You weren't a slut. You're not a slut. Please don't send me to my room." She was laughing too hard to do any more and we ended up kissing and cuddling some more. "I am a slut for you," she whispered. "And I got what I wanted, even though I wasn't supposed to want it." "Me too," I whispered back. ------- It's March, now, and in two months I graduate with multiple degrees in Earth Sciences and Electrical Engineering. I've been studying for the certification exam for two years, and can talk activation voltage, dopant materials and ampere hours with the best of them. I know BIPV building techniques and all about dump loads and magnetic fields. Plus I have five summers of internship experience with a company that has now converted eight farms and two commercial businesses to off-grid capability. I could go out and get a job that starts at $75,000.00 a year at any of a dozen wind farms in the four state area. But I'm more interested in building the business I'll be half owner of in two more months. And loving the mother of my son and two daughters. We know my parents have figured it out. I mean there's no other male she spends any time with except the students from the university who come and work on projects they design and she consults on. They get grant money and they've made some interesting improvements in the area in terms of local government infrastructure. But those projects are all fairly short term, a semester at the most, and the students don't live in town, coming only infrequently for a week here, or a long weekend there. And you don't have to be a mental wizard to do the math. I mean all three children were born in March or April, Nicole while I was in my third year, and Stephanie while I was in my fourth year. Anybody could figure out she got pregnant with them while I was home for the summer, living in her house and working with her day after day. And yet nobody has said a word. Maybe that's because Cathy and Rebecca kept pace with her, and now Mom has four grandchildren, with a fifth due when Julie May gives birth in July. She married her high school sweetheart, who nobody knew about until graduation day when they announced they were engaged. The boy, named David, said he was going to join the Army and that everything would work out. My dad convinced him to learn the art and science of farming if he wanted to marry Daddy's little girl. That actually worked out pretty well and now they have their own trailer on a three acre site that Dad leaves wild for animal habitat. But my mom also has an obvious soft spot for her nephew and nieces too. You could even say she treats them just like her grandchildren. And I keep thinking about how, when she was just eighteen herself, she was willing to think outside the box and turn her back on convention because she was in love with an older man. And, once in a while, even though I know it's silly, sometimes I wonder what was going through her mind when she made the decision to send her sister with me on that camping trip. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2010-06-28 Last Modified: 2011-03-07 / 07:10:23 am ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------